


Dragon by the Ridge

by Salmon_Center



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe - Siblings, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Center/pseuds/Salmon_Center
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Garrus Vakarian didn’t get into the Spectres to babysit a popstar. Much to his relief, that didn't turn out to be entirely the case. Eventual FemShep/Garrus. On Hiatus!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, some of you are thinking: "What the hell, Salmon? Don't you have a WIP?"
> 
> And I do. This is another one. LOL.
> 
> This is an idea that has been in my head for a long, long time. As you can tell, I'm quite fond of AU. My favorite type is Shepard Sibling AU's so this HAD to be one as well. Though, I promise, I have retained the characters (as much as they can be retained given the circumstances) even if their occupations will be changed and their lives altered.
> 
> This story doesn't involve war or Reapers. At least, for the former, not in the most literal sense. The updates will be sporadic and not as systematic as my other WIP. It will likely be shorter too. I hope.
> 
> Warnings: No beta (and Elantil doesn't know about this, surprise Elantil! [don't kill me]) cursing, sexual encounters, violence, AU, sporadic updates
> 
> Full Summary: AU. Garrus Vakarian didn't get into the Spectres to babysit a popstar. However, what he mistook for a rookie job was actually the toughest job in the galaxy. Includes assassination attempts, political shitstorms, and awkward!Vakarian. FemShep/Garrus.
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies. I do not own Mass Effect.

 

"I don't understand how this mission needs a Spectre."

The Spectre headquarters located in the Citadel was in the bowels of the Citadel Tower. It was the reason why the place was always only ever occupied by a handful of Spectres at any given time. From what Garrus had observed about his mentor - the less people there were to speak to, the easier it was to goof off.

Garrus crossed his arms, trying to set his face plates into a serious expression that wasn't the turian equivalent of a human pout. Looking at his mentor, Nihlus Kryik, whose fingers typed rapidly across his omni-tool before snapping his eyes up at him, Garrus held back the urge to answer his smug look with a fist.

"It needs a Spectre because we are the best. And the best is always necessary." Nihlus waved off the hologram and twirled in his leather seat several times before Garrus stuck his hand out to stop him. "Well, that stick is shoved waaay up there today, isn't it?"

"Get some rookie to do it."

"You are a rookie, Vakarian. Your solo experience can't fill up the time for an asari fling."

Garrus's mandibles clicked together. "I'm not the only new solo agent. Get some salarian who’s fumbling around. Like Mearkah."

"Ugh, Mearkah is gross. And the best is always necessary. Don't you ever listen, kid?" Nihlus smacked Garrus hand away and continued spinning in his chair. "What exactly do you have to complain about? This is a serious mission for someone who wants to be taken seriously."

"The fact that you're saying that it's for someone who wants to be taken seriously is exactly why I'm sure it's not." Garrus counted exactly three full spins and stopped the chair again, this time holding the backrest firmly in place. "Am I not good enough for anything else?"

"Vakarian, I trained you myself. I know you're good enough for a lot of things." Nihlus reached out and placed a hand on his student's shoulder before giving him a slow and knowing wink.

"Uh, that went somewhere horrible, didn't it?"

Nihlus laughed, patting him. "This is why you'll be the most suitable. You're a highly trained Spectre, you take your job seriously, and I'm sure that despite being human, she'll find you endearing. Like a lame pyjak."

Garrus sighed, trying to brush away the idea of him being a lame pyjak and the fact that Kryik found him endearing. "She's a pop star. A pop star! How can a pop star be worth Spectre-status protection?"

Kryik rarely had a serious word to say to anyone. However, with the way he stood up, his eyes narrowed and teeth bared — Garrus suddenly felt like the fledgling trainee again, like the kid who ran around with a pistol in hand next to the mentor who had nothing except fists because he went trigger happy. And still, Garrus lost that number-of-kills contest by a landslide.

"You know, I was supposed to take on this job myself. And I really would have loved to. But other assignments need my attention right now."

"Why can't I do your other assignments?"

"You've barely started doing solo work. Plus, John needs more field experience and paring the two of you together would mean expenses the Council coffers can't cover due to damages and lawsuits." Nihlus looked up, face plates shifting absent-mindedly in thought before facing him again. "Vakarian."

Garrus stared back. "Sir?"

"What about a pop star with hips like that is not to be taken seriously?"

"Spirits, why do you always—"

"I'm serious, Vakarian. Look at that waist. And that ass. Yummy." He popped a holo out of his omni-tool of the "intergalactic sensation that swept the galaxy over" and the "voice that transcended the stars." Her red hair and her green-silver eyes made her distinct even among a whole horde of humans.

However, what baffled him about this woman was all the information the datapads gave him.

There was barely anything on a past or a childhood and her fans barely cared. Kaida held chart topping singles and awards for her success. What's more, she had only been in the business for seven years. It had been a wonder how her voice and her appearance appealed to just about everyone. Jealous entertainers cried foul play and surgery. The industry called her a musical prodigy.

And to Garrus?

Garrus barely gave two pyjak shits about pop stars, sensationalism, and stardom in general. Sure, he had his music for when he was out in the field; there was nothing wrong with a little ambiance. But otherwise, all he wanted to do was be a Spectre and do something really worthwhile.

"You're joking."

Kryik chuckled. "Only barely. Beauty aside," He gazed lovingly at the hologram. "I know you read the reports. Kaida is an intergalactic symbol. Her press releases reveal that she is intelligent and capable. Despite being human, she has fans from all races—35% of them are turian, despite our races' history."

"And you're one of them?"

"Quiet you." He flicked the younger turian between the eyes. Spirits, Garrus really hated how he could never learn to avoid that. "Anyway, there has been some talk in the council about including humans into the fold, taking them in as part of the Council."

Garrus nodded. He was all for that. Humans had been rather aggressive about their role in galaxy and they kicked and spat on a lot of protocols all other species seemed to follow. But they were interesting, adaptive. Maybe they had the drive, the intelligence, the numbers, and the military might to be part of the council.

That first step had begun when a year ago the first human Spectre, John Shepard, had joined. Johnny was a good friend of Garrus and a soldier who could really give Garrus a run for his money, especially since they were under the tutelage of the same mentor. Garrus had graduated and was getting the taste of solo work-- giving him a head start on experience. But Johnny's damn biotics gave him some major advantages.

"I heard about the humans being considered for a seat. What Spectre hasn't?"

"Well, the Council and the Alliance are in some sort of agreement. They're thinking about making the human representative Kaida."

Garrus took a step back. "Spirits. You're joking."

"Not at all."

"You think she can do it?"

"Yes. But my opinion won’t matter. This is probably another game that they’re playing. Kaida seems more like collateral damage." Nihlus growled. "Always hated barefaced tactics."

"Really. You think a pop star can handle being part of the Council?"

Nihlus laughed, flicking him on the head again. Garrus growled. "Your understanding is lacking."

Garrus glared. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Vakarian," Nihlus tapped him on the shoulder and began walking away. "You need to do more research."

 

* * *

 

Nihlus liked to talk a big deal; Garrus had learned that much in the two years that he had been under his tutelage. Garrus had been pursuing a solo career for a year, and so far, he had done nothing wrong, so it confused him that he wasn't getting harder cases.

In terms of, say, Nihlus himself and other Spectres, he was young. But Garrus held no delusions about his ability - he was one of the best and no one, Spirits be damned, should ever think otherwise. The only other person whom he thought could be better was John, but just barely.

One expertise he held in his arsenal included tech. He could run circles around Kryik when it came to that, at least. The man was likely mocking him again because Garrus had exhausted all the information on Kaida and had read the files at least twice over, even memorized a few key points about her character, had even screened an extranet blog on how "she was the voice that transcended any asari lifetime."

She was just an entertainer. A performer. Really, what was the council and the human Alliance thinking? He'd seen enough vids from the past on how humans sometimes put popular people in political positions. Half the time, it was a badly thought out plan. A lot of them had good intentions but not enough juice or drive to survive in politics.

And a popstar. Really. What happened to the other guy? Udina, if Garrus remembered right. He was a bastard but he was a political animal. A bareface of the highest order. Garrus could imagine him seething at the fact that he didn't get this coveted position.

But to hell with it, Garrus thought. He can put all this in his file when this was over. If Kaida was planning to take her seat as Councilor, if he didn’t screw this up, then maybe the Council would come to trust him more.

Making his way to Kaida's apartment in the Presidium, he noted that renting the place must have cost quadruple his own expenditure for his flat in the wards for half a year. The building ran a hand scan and ID-ed him as a Spectre before he made his way into the elevator and endured the terrible wait for the climb to the penthouse.

He had some assumptions on what life would be like for a popstar. Spending every day in near leisure was one of them and he had to keep from rolling his eyes during the optical scans.

The VI on the second door after the elevator asked him to deposit his weapons, despite him already being ID-ed as Spectre.

"Miss Kaida has absolute authority on this floor, sir." The VI intoned. "Please deposit your weapons here."

"You're in the Citadel and I'm a Spectre. I think you've been misinformed."

"Comply or leave, sir."

"Look, I'm going to be Kaida's bodyguard. I can't protect her if I have to drop all my weapons here."

The VI seemed to process this and did a re-scan. "Very well, Miss Kaida has authorized your entrance." The doors slid open. "Welcome to Kaida's Ridge."

Spirits, the place had its own name. Garrus catalogued the possibility that he maybe he was dealing with a spoiled brat that would get swallowed by the intergalactic giants and digested into barely-even-diarrhea.

The penthouse was a loft, greeting whoever entered with a ridge. It was designed that it wouldn’t be too unnatural and yet looked real enough. Water cascaded from it in a calm rush, hitting the rocks underneath. The rest of the loft contained more dark browns and the occasional black or white upholstery.

On the left where he was expecting to see a bar, however, was an open studio complete with an earth piano and a real classical violin, as most came in their intergalactic equivalents. Other things he was expecting, such as a dirty kitchen and clothes strewn about everywhere were also absent.

Strange. He knew in his file that there was no cleaning service being conducted here, neither from VI nor from manual manpower (the latter being extremely rare). He opened up his omni-tool to do a quick scan of all the other rooms beyond the walls. The loft had three large rooms upstairs with their own bathrooms, as well as a common room. A guest room was available across the office on the other side of the kitchen.

"If you're looking for a bar, Spectre, I'm afraid I don't drink."

Garrus snapped his eyes straight up the stairs.

Kaida made her way down, hand sliding against the railing. Her heels barely made a click against every step. Her fringe was darker than the pictures, less red and browner. It was at shoulder length and curled up in the ends. Her eyes, which were more silver than green, were almost hard to leave once she had pinned him down with them. The rest of her face was sculpted finely, less round than his usual observation on humans. Kryik had already noted the fine waist and the flaring hips.

She was deathly pale though, nearly ethereal against the wine red dress. It was unlike the usual fashion in Citadel as there was enough revealed on top - a corset that bared her shoulders and a bit of cleavage. She also had a long slit that slipped high on the right side of her dress but he saw clearly the black stocking and the lace garter.

"The agency didn't tell me you were arriving. Neither did the Council," She stopped at the end of the stairs, and leaned back against the railing with her arms crossed. A pose that was so relaxed that it got on Garrus' nerves. "Wasn't our scheduled visit two days from now?"

"Kaida. My name is—"

"Garrus Vakarian. Rookie Spectre. Mentor: Nihlus Kryik and was picked up by him from your former job as C-Sec investigator. Promising during training, expertise extends to tech, CCQ, and sniping. Has been actively solo for barely a year now."

He laughed, even when he told himself that he shouldn't have found any of that funny. "You had my background checked."

"No, actually. I learned it from a direct source."

Garrus looked alarmed at that. "You talked to my mentor?"

"No, your fellow rookie." She smiled, leading him with a hand to sit on the couch as she went into the kitchen. "My brother says you're good friends."

"Your brother?"

Kaida walked up to couch, drink in hand with eyes that looked lit with mirth. "He didn't tell you, did he?"

He took his drink from the table, noted the tupari scent and was glad that a human managed to not make any faux pas at the turian staple and embellish it with things like fruits and umbrellas. "Who?"

"I suppose it's not information that is well-known. The first human Spectre, John Shepard, is my twin brother."

"Oh your twin brother—Oh, shi—"

"I see you've come over barely prepared, Spectre. Why else would they let a mere singer, an entertainer, into the circle of elite leaders? The Alliance likes the idea of the Shepard tandem and the entertainment industry can teach you things about people that a political arena can't." She sat down across him. Even from where she sat, she exuded an air Garrus had known only the Consort to possess. "What is it you really want?"

"Well, uh," His hand trembled against the cup he held.

"To assess my abilities to be in politics?"

A pause. "Uh."

"To see if I was intelligent enough?"

Another pause. "Well, Kaida, um—"

"I'll be honest, Vakarian, as you have yet to find a voice. I don't want to be part of your intergalactic order, nor do I care about it. I've accepted my role as an unofficial ambassador to humankind for as long as I was famous. Any game Udina or the Alliance wants me to play is trivial in the scheme of things.”

"Do kindly tell them, Spectre, as soon as you've finished your drink. And I want this to be verbatim: Shove your politics high up your asses. Frankly, I couldn't care less." She stood up and smiled. "If you will excuse me, Spectre. Lily can lead you out the door as soon as you are through. Good day to you."

As Garrus was left in the living room, cursing his lack of discretion and the possibility that this might blow into a political shitstorm because he had preempted the official meeting, he stood up from his seat and gathered his weapons. The Council was going to have a field day when (if, he hoped, if) they found out.

Of all the times, now was when Kyrik's words came back to him with the speed of an electrical current:

"Your understanding is lacking."

Spirits, Garrus hated it when his mentor was right.

 

* * *

 

Let me know if you want me to continue: review/comment, please.

_Latest Update: Fix a few kinks, typos and clunky sentences, August 11, 2013._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those who reviewed/commented. I know you received my replies. Keep on giving. Share with me anything you like, I love talking to my readers. Also to those who put my story in their lists. Hearts and love to all of you. And to readers in general: thank you!
> 
> Changed the Sibling dynamics a little from the conventional roles they usually play. I'm hoping you like this rendition.
> 
> Just an FYI: If you guys are familiar with Guild Wars 2's Countess Anise, I've loosely based FemShep's fashion from her and gave it some more futuristic twists. A little classic for a sci-fi story but I've designed FemShep's character to be old-fashioned.

**Chapter 2**

"Why didn't you tell me you had a sister?"

Garrus noticed he started everything with a question lately. He had just caught a moment with John Shepard in between work for the Council. Trying not to look upset when John looked just as confused as he felt, Garrus folded his arms across his chest.

"I thought you knew. It's in my Spectre file."

"Wha—no, it isn't."

John rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he brought up the holo of his omni-tool, pulling up his profile. "You should have access to my file. It's all right there. I thought you researched before I joined up."

"I did."

Shepard crossed his arms, leaning back on one leg. An eyebrow raised in question. "So, why is that every Spectre knows but you? Mearkah even asked me if I could get him an autograph."

"Very professional, that guy."

John smirked. "He paid for lunch for a while. Good stuff."

"Besides the point, Shepard," Garrus began to argue. "If you had just told me then I wouldn't have embarrassed myself in front of your sister."

"What?" John got on his two feet and uncrossed his arms. "You met Janey? I thought your meeting was supposed to be in 2 hours GS. How was she?"

"Great. Very friendly."

"No, seriously. How was she? Did she look sick?"

Garrus thought about that for moment. It's not like he knew intimately the signs of human sickness. Turians tended to be more obvious: voice modulations changing and subvocals became a higher frequency. "Not that I was aware of. She was—more intimidating than the way she's usually portrayed in kiosks and virtual ads."

"Well, that sounds like Janey. Intense." He nodded in reply. "But wait, when did you meet? The Council is still setting up and Udina isn't being a huge pain in the ass yet."

Both their omni-tools pinged and they reached for them at the same time. They usually got synchronized messages like these when they were in trouble or when Nihlus wanted them to do something. This time it read:  _You're in shit, Vakarian._

John clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm sure you need to get ready before you have to face death row."

When he was alone, Garrus let go of the cry of frustration.

Withstanding the shame from Nihlus's message was one thing, enduring the Council's tongue lashing was another. No one was surprised when a VI courier came to tell them all that Kaida would not be arriving for the meeting and that any future plans to collaborate must be through formal channels, if at all.

Back in the bowels of the tower, Garrus watched his mentor in question. Nihlus was grinning at him from his leather seat, spinning every once in a while and cackling like a pyjak.

"Spirits, tell me the story again."

"After the Council bit my head for being irresponsible and Udina joined in just to be vindictive, I told them exactly what Kaida told me to tell them: shove your politics up your asses."

Nihlus howled. "That's my boy! I knew tampering with your extranet ID was a good idea."

"You—You did  _what_?" Garrus opened up his omni-tool holo in a flash and clicked through his files. There was a duplicate of one of his music files, sitting there like he was supposed to have noticed it all along. He growled. "This is why I couldn't get all the information I could on Kaida—Spirits!"

"I told you: your understanding was lacking."

"Yes. You also just got me into the Council's shit list! I've always wanted to be in there." Garrus glared, no smile on his face as he delivered the line despite the chirpiness of his tone. "Thanks for that. I love you."

"Aw, I love you too. Wasn't it fun? Besides," Nihlus didn't seem to notice or care about Garrus's ire. "I won a wager worth more than the Council's trust."

"Not your betting pools again."

"Well, not really. But almost."

Garrus sighed. "Tell me you didn't just nearly cost me my career just so you can win a few thousand credits?"

"No, he had a wager with me."

Kaida's voice was a distinct melody against his ears. Behind her was John, grinning as he gave him a mock salute at their entrance.

"John gave me the details, Nihlus. As well as the recordings of what had transpired in the Council Tower." She stopped right by them and held out her forearm, they exchanged a customary turian handshake. Garrus was impressed but then he realized Kaida didn't extend to him the same courtesy. That soured his mood quickly.

"John, you were in on this?" Garrus glared at his friend.

John shrugged. "Well, I wasn't sure what Nihlus had planned exactly but he gave me a rundown while you were getting yelled at. Then I went to fetch Janey. Sorry, Gar."

Nihlus interjected the conversation with a cough. They all turned to face him as a result. "I told you, didn't I? My student has a spine. He'll be a good match for you, Kaida. You won't have to worry too much once you've assumed your place in the Council."

"Not very inventive though. He wouldn't have gotten in trouble in the first place." Kaida eyed Garrus briefly, challenged him with a flicker of mocking in her eyes. So she knew what was rude in turian culture as well. "I'm not wholly convinced, Nihlus."

Nihlus stood from his seat. "I never knew you to back down from a deal, Kaida."

"The deal was to convince me of the competence of your student so that I can be assured of my safety. Clearly, he is yet to be his own master if he needs you to prove himself." Garrus didn't know what was more upsetting: the fact that Nihlus looked ready to throw down in his defence or the fact that Kaida was talking about him like he wasn't around.

"Aw, come on, Janey. Garrus was clearly at a disadvantage here. It's not like people talk about us being siblings." John put a gloved hand on her bare shoulder. She eyed it with as much disdain as a fly before he finally let go and took a few steps back. "Don't shoot the messenger."

"You're another problem, John. Getting into this program after I told you clearly that I disapproved—"

John's perpetually sunny demeanor diminished. "Mom never liked that the fact that you left the Alliance to pursue music either."

"Which is why I left her control and our family. I have reinvented myself outside the Alliance and Council construct. And yet, here you are, suggesting my involvement in politics—getting Udina and the whole Alliance to agree with you as well." She put her hand up when John was about to speak. "Don't tell me you didn't do it when we both know you did."

John's control over his own biotics had never been perfect. Nihlus said it was mainly because it was composed of too much raw energy. Garrus thought it was more because his moods were linked to his powers. Either way, his implants couldn't control either or both no matter how advanced L3 technology was. John's whole fist flared as he let out a Throw with more juice behind it than was necessary.

Nihlus and Garrus had been ready to leap to the side to avoid the Throw but before they could Kaida had lifted a hand, body still and quiet as she slapped the energy to the side— instead of tearing through the three of them, it hit the computers and couches to the right, causing a few small explosions, circuitry to fizzle, and snow burnt feathers and cotton.

Whereas Garrus heart was pumping madly at the adrenaline that was coursing through his body, the whole ordeal barely even ruffled Kaida's skirt.

"You've improved slightly, baby brother." She examined her own hand and noted the redness. It seemed she wasn't completely unaffected. Garrus hadn't realized she had summoned her own biotics. "Some of that got through my biotics."

"I'm not a baby." John countered. "And you're only four minutes older than me!"

"And yet you're still a child." She fixed her stance, standing straighter and taller. "When are you going to learn that they only agreed to your plan because they want to use me, to use us for some game? We are pawns to them."

"Janey," Garrus heard the pleading in John's voice. "If there's anyone who can play their game and win, it's you."

Kaida sighed heavily through her nose, her shoulders tensing and then lowering. All the air around her seemed to deflate as well. Garrus narrowed his eyes. "Her biotics—it's clear in color."

Nihlus put a hand on his shoulder. "Good eye, Vakarian. I wouldn't have detected it this soon if not for the Intel."

"Don't flatter me when you don't mean it, Kryik."

"Don't be like that." Nihlus laughed then pushed passed him. He cleared his throat again. "It seems I got involved in a family dispute. I hadn't realized you were this unprofessional, Kaida."

"Don't mock me when you don't mean it, Nihlus." She mimicked Garrus's tone exactly, down to the most subtle of his sub-vocals. He turned away, sure that as she stared at him she probably heard every word he said. And then the realization that she managed copy his voice.

And she was human. Not turian.

"Fuck, Kaida. That's pretty damn sexy. Change the sentence to: make love Nihlus, would you?"

She sent him a pretty powerful glare but his turian mentor didn't even blink. "Our deal is off, Spectre. Clearly, your student is not you. And John," She turned to her brother, her expression hard. "The sooner you realize our true worth to those in power, the sooner you will realize how little we mean to them. Good day, gentlemen."

* * *

 

 _Mahogany_  was a bar they frequented in the Citadel that was owned by a human couple with an 18 year old son who liked to play bartender than do homework. The best thing about the bar was that they were regulars during downtime and the couple allowed them to stay in a little corner at the counter, undisturbed. Maybe it was the air they gave away: "Spectres mid-rant, disturb and you die."

"Janey wasn't always a hard-ass." John glared at the distance, drink in hand, as the three of them sat in a row feeling sorrier for themselves than they should. "She used to be part of the Alliance. From there, everything in her profile is fabricated. She was straight-laced. Responsible. In a lot of ways, she still is. She enjoyed the rigidity of rules and ethics. She started training two years before me as a biotic prodigy. And then it started." He took a long chug of his beer before he asked for another one.

"What do you mean it started?" Garrus took a sip of the Cipritine gris, a formula that was similar to human scotch.

"It started at first as dreams. Prophetic ones. Really hardcore shit that even the asari don't get." John actually toned his voice down, something Garrus didn't know he could do. "When those died down a bit she started being able to read minds—no need to go through that embrace eternity crap to do it too. There are limitations, though. She can only read a mind one at a time. But as prodigy she was mostly singled out, one-on-one sessions became unbearable. Handlers freaked out. Most people were just scared."

Nihlus shook his head. "So she decided that she couldn't be part of Alliance and became an idol instead? Isn't that counter-productive, being exposed to so many minds all at once?"

"If she can isolate one person, her mind instantly dives into their thoughts. It's not really something she can completely control." John scratched the back of his head. "Part of the reason why she left the house too. Reading mom's mind—Janey never told me what she read, only that she couldn't bear to live in the house after knowing.

"In a crowd all she hears is silence. Too many minds blurs, dissolves. Janey's talent in music is also linked to her biotic abilities: it's partly the reason why hers is colorless. She said something about how if everyone's biotics are visible then hers are audible."

"That's an interesting theory." Garrus hummed.

"It is. Only she's probably one of a kind. I doubt she'd want some salarian poking around her brain." John chuckled, practically soundless. "But I think she probably decided to start a music career because she might have always wanted to pursue it and never knew how to bring it up." He sighed. "That's Janey in a nuthshell."

"Some of this info would have been nice, Shepard." Nihlus bumped John on the shoulder. "Then I wouldn't be making needless bets while half-drunk." It was his turn to sigh. "But Spirits, imagine all the good she could have done as a Councillor. The moment Udina brought up the idea in the Council Chamber I was ready to jump on that Transit unit."

"Why are you so hell bent on her being the human representative, Kryik?" Garrus countered, raising his glass to eye level and staring at the yellow tinge of the liquid. "And Spirits, why do I have to be the one to protect her?"

"It was something she said in an interview before she got this famous." His mentor began. "I was just a little chick, just like you kids. My mentor was Saren, as you've both met—Spirits, calm down it's not like saying his name will conjure him—anyway, Saren would often talk about how humans have yet to earn their place in the galaxy and they shouldn't be butting heads with the rest of us all the time. Most of the other Council races agreed with him then.

"Then Kaida showed up, an upstart in the industry. No one was entertaining her at first until she was invited to a newbies forum. The interviewer was an asari who was directing none of the question to her. Kaida barely made a face at this, kept her cool the entire time until the asari started making jokes. It was on batarians and their country. Punch line after the next about them. All of them made the other artists roar with laughter.

"That was when she stood up all of a sudden, furious. The camera zoomed straight to her to that moment, as if the VI's couldn't help it. Then she said: 'How would know that the planet is a dump if you have yet to visit it yourself? It's fools like you that perpetuate this hate among all people, of all races and yet you complain constantly that your own race has only been fair to all other races. This is bullshit. I hope your show gets cancelled.' Spirits, Saren and I were watching just then and we both looked at each other and laughed."

John smirked, looking smug. "Sounds like Janey."

"You can imagine she got dumped by her former agency, lost a lot of clout for a while. But then for the first time in history, the batarians invited a foreigner into their own territory. A human, out of all races. Now her tours circle around all their colonies. No other artist or diplomat has managed to do this so far.

"In the past seven years there have been some major reforms in batarian Hegemony that we haven't seen in over centuries. Trade routes are being opened up. Slavers are losing clout in both in and out of Council territory.

"This is just one of things she's managed to do because of her influence. For the Hegemony's case it's slow progress and I don't expect it to be fully done even when we're at our death beds but she's moved more planets for the galaxy than any of our Councillors or Spectre I've known.

"I've always believed talent like Shepard here and you, Vakarian are key to Council space peace. Defenders, people whose talents lie on warfare. But we also need visionaries, compassionate souls like Kaida. We need this kind of influence, this kind of open-mindedness working with us. This is what our Council currently lacks. And this is what our galaxy needs."

John nodded along through-out the story and chugged half his glass before speaking. "Janey could definitely do it. It's just a matter of convincing her of the fact."

"She said she won't do it because she'd be leaving the safety of her industry. I told her that I would get her a protector. I devised this way to prove it to her but—as you can see, boys, we've failed. Luckily, the Council only thinks it's because Kaida is being stubborn but with this wager off now I'm sure she will decline in front of the public. Shitstorms abound if the Council pushed too hard."

Garrus downed his drink in a single chug before he slammed his chit and his glass on the counter. He was steady on his two feet as he began to walk towards the exit.

"Where you going, Vakarian?"

He didn't answer back, only gave them both a wave before slipping out.

* * *

 

Garrus did everything that was asked of him the last time before the VI, Lily, could badger him. He was easily granted permission to enter. The same strange sort of peace settled around him inside the Ridge. He found Kaida as she shifted her gaze between the keys of her piano and then at the holo of her sheet music.

"I have a wager for you."

Kaida barely looked up from her sheet music, typing by hand a few notes before she paused. "So, John squealed on me, did he?"

"Tell me, Shepard," He was after the flinch of her shoulders. She knew that too because she hide them by standing up. She turned back to return his stare. Her expression was cold but he felt that energy again and he was sure that she was close to boiling. "Exactly what is it in my mind that makes you think I'm not—"

"Qualified." She finished for him, her hands behind her back. She made her way slowly towards him, deliberately holding his gaze. Garrus fixed his stance: feet apart, and back straight. "What makes you think you are?"

"Why are you asking when you already know?"

She stopped in front of him. Even for a human she was on the short side but still she seemed ready to take him on if she deemed it necessary. "You think you're more than you actually are, Vakarian. In combat, that is dangerous. And I need a Spectre who poses no danger to me."

"You're asking for the impossible then."

"Your mentor I could learn to trust easily. He is confident in his ability because he knows his limits. You, on the other hand, have yet to learn the hard way." She pointed at her temple. "I'm not so cruel as to subject you to these hard lessons, Vakarian. Come back when you're no longer teething."

He refused to respond to her provocation, even though his trigger finger was itching to retaliate. "Why do you need a protector in the first place?"

"What do you mean?"

He titled his head. "You know exactly what I mean. Why would you need a protector? You've shown us that you're capable of defending yourself. A biotic prodigy, John told us. And since you were part of the Alliance you have some basic idea about self-defence. Why do you need the assurance that you'll be defended as a Councillor? Won't that be a given?"

She stared at him for a long while, barely moving save for the flickering of her eyes as she looked about his face. Sighing, she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "So, John didn't squeal about everything did he?" She crossed her arms, leaning back on one leg much the same way her brother did when he was about to be patronizing. "But there is no reason to tell you when I won't be taking the job. No matter how fancily your mentor put it: I can't take up the position unless certain conditions are met."

"But why? I can't read minds. I need to know before I decide whether or not you're worth persuading."

"What makes you think I can be persuaded?"

"There are things that just don't add up." Garrus had been part of C-Sec before. He knew what happened when evidence didn't add up: something had gone terribly wrong in the investigation. "I think you're just making excuses not to take up the job because you're scared."

She gave nothing away in her expression or her body, only she looked back at her piano and began to walk towards it again. "Spectre, I think you know your way out."

"But what are you afraid of. It isn't your career, something tells me you'll still be able to be part of the music industry. It isn't the politics, you're adept at handling people. John said it was a game you could play and win. So, what is it that I'm missing?"

"Lily," She called out. "Kindly escort the Spectre out of the Ridge."

"Ridge. Why would you name this place a Ridge?" He opened up his omni-tool, ready with the program to lock the door behind him before the VI could enter. It would take it at least a minute for it to hack through. "It gives us a clear view of your psyche as well, doesn't it?"

She sighed, looking back at him. "I will not ask you again, Spectre. Leave or I will make you. Your guess is far off."

"Give me a week." He announced as Lily broke the door and was charging up, ready to attack him until Kaida signalled her to stop. "Give me a week to read your mind. If I get it right, you assume your place as Councillor."

"And if you get it wrong?"

"I'll resign as Spectre."

Her eyes widened. "You're not serious."

"You know I am." He held out his hand. "Do we have a deal?"

When she walked passed him, he thought she was going to decline. Then, she brought a datapad out and put it on top of the coffee table. "I prefer deals like these be made tangible, Spectre. You're on."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This took a while, but I hope this chapter finds you well. I haven't really set a schedule for when to update yet so we'll see when the next will be up.
> 
> Read and review/comment!

**Chapter 3**

On the first day Garrus moved into the Ridge, three bags packed of his clothes and weapons—not much, considering he was mostly off the Citadel before this assignment. He walked inside and through the last door, Lily made no move to stop him. The white walls were as clinical as they were the last time and the distant sound of running water soothing.

Kaida looked up at him from her datapad, a cup of coffee in one hand, the smell of which made Garrus' nose wrinkle and snort. "Your room is to the left, Spectre. I've ordered some groceries for you as well."

"Thanks."

"By the way," She put her coffee down after a sip. "There is only one rule in the Ridge that must be abided by at all times."

"And that is…?"

She stood from her stool, her eyes hard. "Don't go up to the second floor."

He suppressed the small shiver and nodded, making his way to his room. Later, they spent most of the day in the same rooms— kitchen, living room, music room. They didn't talk the rest of the first day.

By the end of the fourth day, Garrus had noticed that Kaida kept her life in a predictable and ordered schedule. Almost to the point of madness. Her routine went: breakfast, music, reading, lunch, music, snack, music, holoscreen for the news, music, dinner, music, and bed. Breakfast was always the same coffee and toast, lunch was the same sandwich with baloney, mustard, and veggies that he couldn't name. Dinner was meat with mashed potatoes. There was never any wine, always water though she had given him the occasional turian wine, a smirk on her face that said: "You think too loudly."

Everything was just so… organized. In some ways, it reminded him of the stiff and meticulous way his father ran things at home. Obviously, Garrus never liked it—defying his father and carving his own way as Spectre. Even threats of disownment didn't faze him. His mother, a firm supporter of his dreams, had a lot to do with that.

In the Ridge though, Garrus would have gone mad if it wasn't for the fact that he also found the routine very amusing. It was also very different from the life of someone in the entertainment business—he was expecting more booze and drugs, maybe a few groupies.

"Not a chance."

Garrus jumped, he was frying a steak for himself for lunch when Kaida, standing on the tips of her toes, looked over her shoulder at what he was cooking.

"What?"

"Booze, drugs, groupies. I'm an artist, not a boar."

"Yeah, a bore."

"What was that?"

"Nothing." He flipped his steak and added a little seasoning. He heard her retreating footsteps. To his lack of luck, she decided to stay and watch from behind the counter and pulled a stool for herself to sit.

"Nervous?" she asked.

"Hm. Maybe, a little."

"You should be." He could hear the smile in her voice but he doubt she was actually smiling. "My manager is coming in today. You can do a standard background check. Her name is Oriana Lawson."

"Lawson?" He switched the stove off and allowed his steak to rest on the wooden board. He did really appreciate the finer points of the Ridge. Everything he needed seemed to be just where they should be. Shaking off those distracting thoughts, he opened up his omni-tool and read speedily through the profile. "There's some Intel here saying that she's the daughter of Henry Lawson, the business mogul that we've been trying to find some dirt on. And might be related to—"

"A Cerberus agent. Speculation, however."

"This sounds potentially dangerous. Why would you—"

"Hire her?" She smiled when the doorbell rang. "You ought to see for yourself."

"Kaida!" A female voice called from near the doorway. A slim form of a woman in a dark purple dress pushed forward, her heels clicking towards them until she reached the kitchen. She set a heavy leather bag on the counter, huffing. "I heard the Council stuck a Spectre dog on you—"

"Ahem, I'm in the room—"

"Whatever." She put her hand up at him, signalling for him to stop talking. He glared at Kaida's smirk. "Don't you worry, Kaida. We're going to sue their asses from galaxy to galaxy. Their people will be eating out of plastic doggy bags—"

"No need to be so crass, Oriana." Kaida patted her manager on the head. An otherwise condescending action looked tender in Kaida's case. Oriana was immediately satiated, taking a deep breath and sighing. "Just tell me about next week's concert in the Citadel."

"I have everything organized, Kaida."

"Concert? Kaida, you're about to become a Council member. You won't have time to—"

"Only if you complete our wager, Spectre. Otherwise, I make no such promises. Besides," Kaida slipped out of her seat and steered Oriana to the living room. "Even as a Council member, I will make time to keep my career up."

Oriana cleared her throat. "Besides, it's a small concert. It's more for Kaida's closer fan base. The bigger concert won't be months from now. We need to discuss that too, Kaida."

"You can't be serious." He received no reply as the two women began to chat. Sighing, he turned back to his steak and found it cold.

* * *

"I was also looking forward to your sheet music, Oriana. Have you finished?"

It was past dinner time when they finally finished their talk. Oriana was halfway through packing before she blushed to the roots of her hair at the mention of her sheet music. Garrus pushed off the wall he was leaning against, tired of looking like furniture for the past hour and a half.

"Oriana," Kaida said tenderly, reaching out a hand to rest on her manager's. "You're an amazing composer and an exceptional violinist. I hope I didn't force you into doing this."

"Uh. No, ma'am—Um, Kaida. It's just." She looked down at her hands and coughed. "I don't want people to think that I took my job as your manager just to pursue my own career."

"Nonsense." Kaida waved off the comment. "Please let me see your music when you can. We'll look through it. If you're shy about getting in front of the mics and cameras," Watching Oriana turn from pink to purple almost got Garrus to laugh—but it was a tender moment and he wasn't an ass. "Then we'll work on that. Together."

"Kaida—"

"Don't start. I owe you more than you owe me. Let me do this for you."

The two of them ate dinner together, as Garrus had cooked his own food earlier. Kaida also gave her manager one last hug before Oriana turned to leave, babbling last minute follow ups that would be resent to Kaida's extranet mail ASAP.

Garrus leaned against the far wall again, watching Kaida's back as she gave her friend one last wave.

"She's fiercely protective of you. And a good friend."

Kaida turned and walked passed him towards the stairs. "Good night, Spectre."

"You think that your friendship might count for something, if anything happened, so you aren't afraid of her betraying you."

Kaida didn't answer. She looked back at him, halfway through the staircase. "It won't even cross her mind. Even if the sister she never met came back and asked her to. Though, Oriana doubts that her estranged sister would ask such a thing."

"So, you do know about her sister."

"Because she does."

It was Garrus turn to be taken aback. "She knows she has a sister who works for Cerberus?"

Kaida looked up for moment. "Of a fashion, yes. She knows bits and pieces. I filled in the blanks through informants. I asked her before if she wanted to know who her sister was and if she wanted to find her." Kaida looked down with a smile on her face, though the look in her eyes wasn't a happy one. "She said that it didn't matter and that I was more like her sister anyway."

Kaida bade him good night again but Garrus was rooted to the ground, looking after Kaida's shadow as she disappeared passed the corner. How could it be such a horrible thing for Oriana to consider Kaida her sister? Why put on such a pained and wretched expression on your face when someone you cared about cared right back?

Garrus sleep was fitful and yet dreamless.

* * *

It was the sixth day and Garrus sat at their Spectre Spot in Mahagony, nursing his fifth Gris and feeling like garbage. No amount of prodding or watching was getting him closer to the answer. In fact, the fact that he saw her every day was completely throwing him off. As far as he could tell, Kaida's life was near perfect. She had the influence of a politician, the money of a black market dealer, and the charm and charisma of, well, a popstar.

She had the looks, intelligence, and the power to rule over all of them. Garrus was surprised she wasn't preparing to take over Thessia (not like they'll offer much resistance, statistics stated she made more money off asaris than any other council race) as the first system to wave the Kaida flag.

So, really, what in Spirit's name was stopping her from reaching greater heights? She wasn't lacking in self-confidence or ability. Everyone around her thought highly of her. Even the short few days he'd spent watching her and he had already formed a high opinion of her. She didn't fear failure or pressure—those didn't even seem possible.

If he didn't get the fear right then all the sacrifices he made—against his father and his family, his mother as his shield, his training—all of that would be flushed down the drain, as he heard Shepard say once. What possessed him to wager his life's work for a bet that would end in a week?

Right. Because he was dealing with a mind reader and he needed to show that he had every confidence that he would be able to get it. Prove himself after everything she accused him off: inexperienced, young, and unskilled.

"Spirits, I am so stupid."

"You don't say, Vakarian."

Garrus's blood ran cold at the sound of that voice and specific set of sub-vocals. He turned his head, slowly, gently—wishing that it was all just some illusion and the person beside him wasn't—

"Just because you close your eyes and pray to the Spirits, doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly disappear."

"Saren." Garrus grumbled as he downed his drink. "Just the person I wanted to see."

"Mind your manners, youngling. I can snap you in two without batting an eyelash and not even Nihlus can save you from me."

"I'm not as inexperienced as I was before, Sa— Spectre Arterius. You're not going to have such an easy time disposing of me. If you can."

"A lot of hot air, as usual. I suppose as your father suggested, you're only be suitable as a C-Sec grunt all your life."

Garrus tightened his grip on the glass before he downed it, he called for another one. "I didn't come to my favorite bar to be ridiculed by a has-been."

That seemed to ruffle all of Saren's feathers because he felt the older turian's glare burn right into his neck. Entirely justifiable because that said older turian could easily slit his neck because first, Garrus was beyond tipsy and second Saren was not a has-been. Saren Arterius was the end and the beginning when it came to Spectres. Though Nihlus was up there with him, Saren could do no wrong in the Council's eyes.

And that made him an asshole of the highest degree— the way he walked around like he owned the galaxy. Just he wait till Garrus was up there, he'd punch the old man in the face and laugh at his greying and cracked plates.

"And what are you here for, youngling?"

"Can't a Spectre enjoy a few drinks and not be questioned?"

"Not when he's on his tenth. Just know that if you destroy half of the Transit Hub in the Citadel with that damned Shepard again, then I will gladly put you in custody—you'll never be able to see the artificial light of the Citadel again."

"Downer."

"What was that?"

Garrus grumbled. "Wouldn't you want to know?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm not entirely sure if I said this before: Fic takes place roughly after ME3 time line, (minus Reapers). Many thanks to Elantil for beta-ing despite her busy schedule. And when Garrus says Shepard (just Shepard) then he is referring to John and not Jane/Kaida. Just want to point that out in case anyone is confused.
> 
> Hope this chapter finds you well. Leave a review/comment, please. And many thanks for reading/reviewing.

**Chapter 4**

"… How do I gu'ss her fear by tomorrow? It's ridi-ridiculis!"

"I tink the wurd is ridiculus."

Garrus swayed on his stool. "Tha's what I said. What I say?"

Saren burped, leaning back and forth. He stared at the overhead light for a long time with his mandible wide open. "I dunno. Forgot."

"Prolly not important. So yeah, Saren, what do I do? I don't wanna lose my job. It's bin two yers! Two YERS! I dun wanna was'e two yers."

"I dunno. Pleas—plead for mercy."

"Whut? Wud you do dat? I dun wanna please—pleaze—beg."

"Not to sum human, huh? Even if she's reeeeally purtty?"

Garrus sat up at that. "You tink Kaida's really prity?"

"I tink she'z really pretty." Saren smacked him over the head. Garrus nearly fell over his stool but Saren grabbed him by the collar of his tunic in time. "Dun tell Nihlus!"

"I not tell. I not tell anyone." Garrus pushed the older turian away, turned to the bar and banged his head against the countertop. A wave of nausea hit him in full force. "I tink I'm gonna die."

There was a lull in the conversation when both of them reached for their drinks—an obvious sign that they were far past the point of no return. Garrus was going to feel this in the morning and hate it, he was sure.

"She w's mine once, you know." Saren said suddenly.

Garrus did _not_ just hear himself giggle. "Wha' 'r' you talkin' 'bout?"

"Kaida. Was mine once."

It took about 20 minutes for Garrus to sober up, ingesting that information slowly between the flying klixen and the krogans doing stage dramas in his head.

When it did finally hit him, it was like being rammed by a Kodiak. The very idea that Saren was ever in a relationship with anyone—what more a human— was a more effective cure for drunkenness than a cold shower. The fact that Kaida was the other half of that relationship was like being plunged into a pool full of ice.

"Yer kiddin'."

"I'm not."

"But yer so old." Garrus nose wrinkled. Saren glared. "And mean! How can anyone lick someone so mean?"

There was a hand on his shoulder before the voice of his mentor cut in. "I think the word is like, Vakarian. Like."

"Ugh, don't help me imagine that." This time it was Shepard behind Nihlus, looking pale and sick. "I'm just glad that relationship is over."

"What do you know, huma—" Saren stopped suddenly, plates shifting upward. As dignified as a drunk turian could, Saren made a full sprint to the restroom.

"I told that lightweight not to match you drink for drink. Now looked what happened." Shaking his head, Nihlus followed after Saren.

Garrus cleared his throat. "What are you both doin' here?"

"Janey said Saren called and started yelling at her for no reason. We're here to beat his ass." Shepard paused. "Rather, she called me to tell Nihlus that Saren was going to get drunk. I'm here to _strongly suggest_ that we beat Saren's ass."

The reason why Nihlus and Kaida seemed so familiar with each other added up his head. Other instances where Shepard was more disgusted by Saren than afraid also made its way into his thoughts. Garrus glared. "Did you both know?"

"Know what?"

"That Kaida was with Saren?"

"Well, I am her brother. And Nihlus is the asshole's protégé. It really was years back and shouldn't be relevant now. I dunno why Saren got all huffy."

Garrus grumbled. "Why does no one tell me anything?"

In that time, Nihlus came back with his mentor leaning against his shoulder. His face had a no- nonsense expression on it and Garrus kept his tongue in check for any wisecracks as they trudged through the bar and into the artificial Citadel atmo.

* * *

"I can't believe you brought him here." Even as Kaida said that, she was preparing ice packs and towels. She also had pulled out the bed from the couch and had pillows and blankets ready. Even the barf bucket for Saren was by his bed when he had to hurl into it again.

Nihlus scoffed. "Aww c'mon, Kaida, you're so much better at taking care of him than I am."

"Tell me you're not going to listen to him. I think the Spectre poster boy would make a nice literal poster, don't you think, sis?"

"Out. Get out." With that she had Nihlus and her own brother booted out. She had also instructed Lily that they were not even to enter the elevator. Not for a long time.

Garrus was stuck with watching duty again, feeling the vestiges of gris clinging on to his more rational self. Kaida sat by Saren's bedside. Garrus was ready to squirm if he witnessed a tender moment, not entirely sure if he was ready to see Saren as a romantic, loving being.

Instead, Kaida took one long withering look at her former lover. She unceremoniously took the plastic bag of ice and plunked it down against Saren's forehead plates. The older turian groaned in pain.

"Fucking asshole." She muttered. Lifting the ice bag up higher, she did it again. The groan was even more pained. "I hope you feel that through your douchebag plates."

Garrus laughed. "So, you do know how to cuss, Kaida?"

"I was Alliance. What kind of marine—former, I know—doesn't know how to cuss?" She looked at Garrus, right eyebrow cocked upward. She seemed paler than he remembered earlier that day but strangely ethereal and beautiful in just her robe—bound by a dainty silk rope on her slender waist.

Spirits, he drank too much. Suddenly, he was thankful that there was another person in the Ridge and she would have a harder time reading his thoughts.

"So, you were out getting plastered because you're going to lose tomorrow?"

Apparently, he wasn't completely immune to the mind reading. "I still have a day."

She rolled his eyes. "Well, a deal is a deal. I will wait till the end of the deadline before I watch you resign as Spectre."

"Whatever." He really didn't want to think about how his years of toil were going to mean nothing by tomorrow. He crossed his arms. "So, how did the galactic sensation keep the fact that she was dating a turian Spectre from making tabloids and extranet kiosks everywhere?"

She smiled back, not the least bit intimidated. "I was considered Alliance elite, Spectre. Not to mention, Saren is the cream of the crop for your Spectre group. It's really not that hard to ask people to look the other way. Besides, privacy was always available at the Ridge and many other sanctums across the galaxy."

"There are more of these places?"

"In nearly every major city. Even Surkesh. The Ridge is the place for the Dragon, after all." Her smile was odd, something about it was between genuine and practiced. Garrus was never an expert in human expressions to begin with. Even John Shepard baffled him most of the time.

"So, why did you two break it off?"

"Well, Saren and I ended where you and I began."

He didn't mean it to but his heart beat a little faster. "Meaning…?"

"What else could I possibly mean? It started off with a wager. And Saren lost."

When he couldn't come up with a reply, she stood from her seat at Saren's bedside, crossing Garrus as she made her way up. Garrus huffed as he followed her shadow with his eyes, watching her bedroom door slide close before he made his way to his own.

* * *

Later that night, Garrus couldn't sleep. It didn't help that if he took a few long strides to the living room, he would bump into his sworn nemesis. Garrus still couldn't believe that he tried to share a moment with that bastard. He prayed that the Spirits would take Saren's soul tonight. Though that was impossible—Saren was too much of a bastard for anyone to want him, except maybe Kaida. Gross.

After another half hour of tossing around the bed and flinging the covers and pillows, he got up to get himself a snack and some water. He took a peek at the living room to see if the monster was suffering but it turned out he wasn't there.

Maybe the bastard left? Good riddance too since Garrus had no idea how he was going to face him tomorrow without being somewhere between angry and embarrassed _and_ hungover.

As Garrus finished his bowl of leftovers, he stood from the table and poured himself another glass of water before he heard a crash and a thud upstairs.

He pulled out his pistol on instinct, finger on the trigger as he began to make his way up the stairs. Then he remembered the one rule of the Ridge and paused. Lily wasn't acting up so that mean it wasn't an intrusion. But it also meant that maybe Kaida was in some other trouble, or worse, it could be Saren. No, no. Garrus still shouldn't be up there.

Screw the rules, Garrus thought. He had never been a very good turian to begin with anyway. He made his way upstairs, curbing the fascination at how huge the second floor actually was before he noticed that the door was left open and he hid behind the frame before he turned around, gun drawn—

"Stop your heroics, Vakarian." Saren's sarcastic drawl and sub-vocals resounded in the room, though with less force than usual. The adrenaline pumping through Garrus's bloodstream died and Garrus felt his head pound as he sheathed his sidearm.

Garrus took in the situation, saw the broken glass shards scattered around the floor and Kaida kneeling, clutching her head. Her complexion had become a sickly pale, sheened with a layer of sweat. Her face pinched with her eyebrows drawn and her teeth bared as if to keep from screaming. And Saren was the most surprising thing of all, kneeling in front of her with his talons clutching her shoulders tightly.

"What are you doing up here, Saren? What's happening?"

"I came up here to—argue." He actually looked and sounded ashamed. If it was any other situation he would have taken a picture with his omni-tool and mailed it to Shepard. "Then she stormed off to come here. Then I heard a crash.." He faced her again when she whimpered. A strange and weak sound that wasn't like Kaida at all and Garrus' heart sank like he never knew it could. "Can you hear me, Jane? Stay with me."

"What does she need? What can I do to help? Do we call Huerta?" He summoned up his omni-tool and was already typing down the codes to call their VVIP line when Kaida put her hand up, halting him.

"It'll pass," She spoke in turian and Garrus closed his eyes. Weakness and calm laced all throughout her voice and sub-vocals. Kaida had a beautiful Cipritine accent, and it was both fascinating and harrowing all at once. Only that it's last note had a lingering pain that made Garrus's knees weak.

Saren pulled her closer to him. Garrus talons tightened into fists.

The three of them waited for the pain to pass in silence.

* * *

"Has this been happening often?"

Saren didn't ask how long it's been happening or what has been happening, this implied that it was something that occurred long before—when the two were still together. Garrus felt like he was intruding so when she finally had enough strength to sit up, he excused himself.

Instead, Kaida stopped him from leaving and he was directed to sit on the bed next to her. Saren was left standing in front of them and Garrus was sure that not all the anger and the glaring was because of Kaida's health.

"You're overreacting, Spect—"

"Don't call me that. Like we're strangers." Saren always seemed infallible, calm and sarcastic even under the worse circumstances. His cunning and his wit were as sharp as his skills on the field. Now, Garrus was looking at a completely different Saren. Tethering at edges, eyes twitchy and fists opening and closing as he growled at Kaida's confused expression. "Don't make light of this, Kaida. Not this."

"Don't act like you care so much, Spectre. We've been living separate lives for these past two years. I've enjoyed the solitude." She gave a Saren a look between amused and sardonic. "Apparently, you didn't quite enjoy it."

"That you let the Council even hope that you are fit to be Councilor is ridiculous."

Garrus hadn't heard harsher words. He felt a wave of protectiveness come over him. He opened his mouth with a ready rebuttal but Kaida reached for his forearm and shook her head from side to side. She seemed to have taken worse abuse because she barely seemed affected.

Even though Garrus thought there wasn't anyone more fit for the position, even when he thought Saren couldn't be more of an ass than he was now—the look in Kaida's eyes, the serenity there, was all it took for Garrus to huff and back down.

"I heard enough of your ranting earlier. I don't need to anymore." She spoke again, completely in turian. "Leave the Ridge. I don't need to ask you twice."

Garrus standing with his hand on his sidearm was probably less intimidating than Kaida's glare.

There were signs of hesitation when Saren's back straightened and the line of his jaw tightened, clenching— barely containing sharp sets of teeth and harsh, bitter words. Instead, Saren sent Garrus the most poisonous glare to date before he made his way out the room. Garrus followed him, for good measure, until the stairs and watched as the Spectre left the Ridge. Not once did Saren to turn around to look back.

Garrus stood there for a long time. Seconds, minutes, maybe even hours. He recounted his whole day up until that final point when Saren left, recalling every action and expression Kaida managed to muster today.

It was well before sunrise before Garrus walked back into Kaida's room. She was sitting up, not asleep as he thought she would be. He remained standing at the foot of her bed, hands behind his back, head bowed before it rose and he looked her straight in the eye.

"I know what you're afraid of."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can hear all of you mutter: Finally, Salmon.
> 
> Lol. Enjoy. Many thanks to Elantil for beta-ing too. :)
> 
> Hope this chapter finds you well.

**Chapter 5**

The first lie was her name.

As a human biotic, Jane Shepard learned at a young age that she would never really belong with normal people. As a biotic prodigy, she was even more isolated by kids her age—all this she took in as normal— there weren't other children like her, they were only afraid.

Until she turned six, undergoing advanced CQC and biotic training with the best of the Alliance and the asari handlers who were former Commandos—Jane Shepard had no idea who she really was and how everything that was happening to her wasn't normal at all.

It began first as dreams. She woke in a cold sweat, a name in her lips she could barely recall. She watched as a batarian struck down a little girl, a teddy bear she was holding fell—smeared in dirt— and houses cast in flame.

Beside her, her younger twin John was sitting, facing her with both curiosity and fear.

"This dream." She whispered to herself. "It's gonna happen again. I just know it."

"Janey," John Shepard reached forward to rest his hand on hers. "It's okay. It's just a bad dream. It's nothing, okay?"

Jane nodded, even if she didn't agree.

The next morning, it was reported that batarian raiders had attacked a human colony. The holograms showed birds eye footage of the burning suburb. Jane Shepard caught the small clip of that teddy bear in the few seconds it flashed.

"Madam Milian," She told the asari handler who was in charge of training. "I saw something in my dreams and it happened. What does it mean?"

"My," The asari put a hand to her cheek. "Sometimes biotics translates itself into more than just tools of destruction. It's only temporary so there's no need to worry about it, dear. Today, we're going to practice Warping."

Madam Milian's smile was there the whole practice session and her voice as soothing as it was. Even if she never really met Jane Shepard's eyes again.

The dreams went on for two years. She knew things she couldn't know—attacks that happened somewhere else, accidents that happened around her. She knew other biotic kids didn't see what she was seeing—during lunch hours, as the older children sat on the other table—she sat on the far end of the cafeteria writing down her dreams. All of them sat together, whispering and looking over their shoulders as if there were ghosts about them.

They lived in fear of their gift. On the other hand, Jane Shepard was perfectly content to learn that the salarians were planning to do another test on the genophage in Tuchanka—a team of specialists and scientists were heading in a frigate right now. She also knew that today their mother had planned to order pizza instead of cook because she was buried in paperwork.

The last night—she called it—she had a dream about the past instead of the future. She was four years old, sitting before a mini grand piano. A man with dark hair and dark eyes looked at her smiling. His hands buried deep inside the pockets of his lab coat.

"Kaida." He called her as he patted on the head. "Kaida, my little dragon."

* * *

The second lie was her life.

After the night of the last prophetic dream, she woke up and saw her baby brother again. He looked down at her with the same fear and curiosity—but this time she was sure because she could hear his voice in her head.

"Is something wrong with the world again?" Eight years old and John Shepard already had his cheeky smile in place.

"No," She shook her head. "But now I can hear your thoughts."

"What? Really?" He bounced excitedly. "What am I thinking about now?"

"That maybe if you played your cards right, you could trick an adult into buying you a Fornax."

He gasped. "That's amazing, Janey! We should—"

"My name isn't Janey." She blurted out. The twins looked at each other wide eyed before Jane Shepard sighed. "Forget what I just said. It's nothing, John. But don't tell anyone about this."

"What? Why not?"

"Because, they didn't really want to listen last time—I don't think they'll like it a second time."

The next morning, their mother had left early—her expeditions could stretch on for a long time too— and the housekeeper had made breakfast for them. Just as Jane was about to leave through the door, she caught John's thoughts: _Janey has to go to the academy for reading again. It's so boring at home without her._

"John, where did you say I was going?"

He jumped. "Oh. You're still having problems reading right? Mommy said you have to head to a school for—Janey?"

How could John not know she was training her biotics? Havent they ever talked about it before?

"Janey?"

"It's nothing, John." She smiled. "I'll see you later."

It all went downhill from there.

There wasn't a mind she couldn't read. And every dirty secret, every ulterior motive—all of them were for her to read. Mom called them every night from her ship and Jane Shepard would let John do all the talking. Jane spoke about the new gift to no one, she progressed even more speedily through her training—going through handlers until there wasn't much left but to refine the techniques. Over time, she read John's mind and knew he had no idea where she was going and what she was really doing.

Never mind, Jane thought, everything was normal, everything was ordinary. She could always ask Mommy about it when she came back.

She never saw the man in the coat in her dream again.

Four years later, she was twelve years old and her mother had finally returned. Jilian Shepard had always been a doting and caring parent, even as a Captain—she had split her time between family and work well enough. Jane Shepard admired her, loved her. She spoke caring and considerate words, always. Jilian Shepard's thoughts were never Jane's concern until today.

"Janey? How was your day?"

_Are you less dangerous now?_

"Janey? Are you all right? You've gone pale."

_Great, is she sick again?_

"Janey, talk to me."

_This stupid child—why won't she answer me?_

From the recesses of her mother thoughts, she saw the man in the lab coat again. His smile was bright, his eyes narrow. His name, Jane managed to clutch from the hatred of her mother's thoughts, was Masato Ryuuki.

"Yes, mother." Jane smiled. "Today was fine."

* * *

The last lie was that everything was normal.

All those years she had deluded herself into thinking everything was as it should be. Only it wasn't, all the thoughts she read and the secrets she had uncovered all pointed to one thing—she was a child that wasn't supposed to exist.

Getting into the classified files was easy when she knew all the passcodes and hacking methods. It was easy to wave a hand so that cameras would look the other way. It was easy to know shift changes and give herself enough time to download the files and read or watch them in private.

Jilian Shepard's twins were tested as Element Zero positive. The chances of them being biotic children were as high as 92.456 percent. The test showed the male twin was strong and robust. The female—was destined to die at birth. Jilian Shepard's physician went by the name Masato Ryuuki, a doctor from a strong line of physicians, whose interest in biotics and biotic children lead him to Jilian Shepard.

"There's still a chance." Jane heard his voice for the first time through the recording, huddled in her closet so that John wouldn't interrupt. He knew not to enter when she was in there. "Your child could still survive. The girl—has astronomical potential in biotics but will be born with a weaker body. Studies show that humans with biotic potential usually show later in age but if we sped up that process—"

"I don't want to rely on false hope, doctor." She heard her mother cry. "Just please, please let this issue go."

Dr. Masato Ryuuki never let it go.

Shortly after Jilian Shepard gave birth to the twins—the older, the girl—was born with barely a heartbeat. Modern medicine wouldn't be able to save her. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, children in the womb exposed to Element Zero often came out as either deformed or stillborn. Only a small percentage would be as healthy and as fit as John Shepard.

As a child exposed to eezo, however, the girl was destined to be tested and studied before she would draw her last breath. They would peel her, layer by layer, and maybe she would be the answer to preventing less stillborn deaths among eezo exposed children.

Except the baby girl's body disappeared and so did Masato Ryuuki.

Many of the files on the database had belong to the doctor. He had recorded her progress as everyday he would put his theories into action. He had created a serum that would potentially unlock her biotics early. Months of notes and audio recordings, there was little progress—the baby was destined to draw her last breath soon.

"Kaida. Your mother never named you but I will. Kaida, you can grow stronger just—live."

There were more detailed notes about how everything became better from then on. Notes on how the baby was now relying on biotics to survive, about how dangerous it would be if her biotic levels dropped too low—training would have to consist of strengthening her stamina and using less energy to do things. There were notes on how much more advanced Kaida could become not just as a human biotic but as a biotic in general. Even asari children didn't exhibit powers until a decade. But Kaida's power had been unlocked earlier and stronger than anyone in history and ever before.

There were other notes too—Kaida's favorite food, favorite songs, her first word: Papa. There were sketches of baby dresses, of her tiny little mittens, even notes on the perplexity of changing diapers.

The last of the salvaged data was an entry on how Kaida exhibited a love and potential with music. He had already bought her a mini grand and she had played a song by ear at four. He was now investing in a classic violin, hard to find and expensive to boot but if he loaned from his family—

Jane Shepard didn't leave the closet. Lying down, she looked up at the clothes, the dark ceiling—she stretched out her hands to touch the hem of one of her hanging jackets and imagined a white coat.

* * *

Everything in John's timeline about their lives was wrong.

She intended to keep it that way.

She started biotic training from the moment she was born. John thought she had started at 12 and he at 14. John Shepard thought he didn't have memories of Jane until they were four because he was just forgetful. Jane knew he didn't have memories because neither did she—she was living as Masato Ryuuki's daughter, Kaida, until she was four years old.

That was until Masato Ryuuki was sentenced to life imprisonment for child abduction and child abuse, his medical license revoked—he died in prison with her name on his lips and a sincere prayer that she would remain strong and steadfast. John didn't need to know that their own mother thought her a monster—a child who survived because of morbid experimentation and horrific powers. Jane knew she could never forgive them, never work for them for all the wrong they've done to her and Masato Ryuuki.

John didn't need to know that Kaida existed before Jane Shepard did. He didn't need to know that she relied on her biotics so that her body could go through the normal functions—breathing, walking, living. All he had to know was that she was born with a weaker constitution—not that it had anything to do with biotic fluctuations or the possibility of an untimely death.

John didn't need to know all of this. He should remain as he was—as a child, only knowing the good things. All he needed to know was that the handlers were afraid of her now because she revealed her ability to read minds. And that she left home because she didn't need the Alliance or anyone—not to learn more about her gift, not to learn more about Masato Ryuuki and his family, and not to survive. All she needed was the music she loved as a child and Ryuuki Masato's wish that she live strong and steadfast.

She wanted her father's message to reach as many as people as possible.

Live strong and steadfast.

Protect John. All she really had left that was hers was John. And the few people whom she considered as family- Oriana and the Masato family.

"I know what you're afraid of." Vakarian stood in front of her; a soldier's stance matched his soldier's build.

"What am I afraid of?" She asked, even if she already knew.

"The deeper you and John get into politics—the more likely he is to find out."

"About?"

"Everything you're hiding from him—from me—from Oriana, even." He paused. "About your powers. Your—headache this morning. About the Ridge."

"Do you want to know?"

He turned away. "If I lied, you'd find out."

She swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood. Rather than feeling threatened, she felt oddly comfortable. This Vakarian—Spectre, turian—maybe she could trust him enough with these secrets. Nihlus, she laughed inwardly, he had an uncanny knack for reading in between the lines.

"I like your honesty." She smiled. "If you stick around long enough after I become Councilor—maybe, I'll tell you my secrets. Only—"

She waited for him to shuffle. "Only?"

"If you survive the week—then Oriana would have to approve."

He groaned and she laughed behind her hand. Never mind her fears, she thought, live strong and steadfast.

She lived with lies long enough. Now was the chance to finally break free.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support (faves/follows, reviews, comments, etc)!
> 
> Hope this chapter finds you well.

**Chapter 6**

_**Citadel News Reports:** _

_It was announced just last week that the humans would be the next appointed Council race. Ambassador Udina has expressed no surprise on being chosen on account of their assistance in several Council race colonies against batarian pirates raids. Moreover, the exemplary work of men and women of all fields—Kahlee Sanders, John Shepard, Ren Watson—have become the best examples of what the human race has to offer to the rest of the galaxy—making headways and improvements in technology, security, and environment conservation._

_The biggest shock was Ambassador Udina stepping aside for the position as Councilor and giving it to Jane Shepard, also known as Kaida—a popular singer, model, and human ambassador. Fans across all races have expressed both excitement and congratulations to the new human Councilor._

_**Westurlund News Report:** _

… _Several leaders across Earth and her colonies, have expressed some doubt that the newly appointed Councilor Jane Shepard, known to her fans as Kaida, a mere popstar—can step into the role of leadership. Councilor Shepard, however, is also related to Admiral Shepard and has a twin brother, John Shepard. The latter was appointed the first human Spectre just a year ago._

_Several of humanities leaders, however, have voiced concerns over the choice of Councilor. For instance, Admiral Richard Jones of the eighth fleet_ _was not afraid to be Jane's harshest critic, I quote, "Jane Shepard is not only too young to hold such a high position of office—but lacks the experience and political savvy to be a proper example of what humanity is and can mean to the rest galaxy. Her appointment is a great oversight from all our parts." Many other leaders expressed the same or similar concerns. Adding that Councilor Shepard's strong ties to the batarian Hegemony and her pro-alien approach can also dampen humanity's focus on strength and independence._

_Is Jane Shepard merely riding on her popularity and coattails of her last name to gain power in the galaxy? Is humanity just a pretty face to the rest of the Council? This is Khalisah Al-Jilani, Westurlund_ _News, reporting._

_**Idols Across the Stars News Report:** _

… _Good Evening, Star Seekers! As you've already heard, one of the biggest names of the music and entertainment industry, Kaida, has recently been appointed Councilor of the human race. Fans have expressed congratulations and excitement for our favorite idol, sending in flowers, chocolates, and other gifts to her residence in the Citadel. It truly is amazing! We can all barely believe the news but we've been very excited for her._

_As a result, her concert in the Citadel has been postponed to two weeks from now. As an apology to all her fans, she's added an extra hour to her performance and has invited the band, Coat of Arms, a very popular multi-racial band to co-perform with her._

_Tickets are still for sale but they're running out fast! Get one before you miss this once-in-a-lifetime performance with the best solo artist and the best band in the galaxy to-date!_

* * *

"Spectre Vakarian, I see you've survived the week."

"Is it supposed to be that impressive?"

She glared. "If Kaida didn't want you around, believe you-me, you would have gone through hell and back. I can point you to the direction of several ex-bodyguards."

Garrus cleared his throat. "No, thank you."

"Good. Now to business—unless you're too tired of the political diatribe?"

Garrus knew Kaida's secretary, Oriana Lawson, was a fussy mother krogan with a vindictive streak. They had reversed roles for now as she paced in front of him and he sat behind the Councilor's secretary's desk. So he nodded instead of replying, feeling both weary from the week of nothing but talk, talk, talk and Kaida's all-too-comforting hand on his forearm when he felt the sleep settle.

Now, she was in the embassy's bar lounge and had told him with a mean little laugh that Oriana wanted to see him. So here he was.

"Spectre, there are very special rules—rules that take precedence above all else—if you want to keep working near Kaida. Rule number one: We never talk about Kaida's— other abilities."

"Why? It's not like it's a secret."

"The fact that she's a biotic isn't a secret—believe me we've gotten enough crap thrown our way from Terra Firma parties and other anti-alien and anti-biotic fanatics. The other stuff and then some—is highly confidential. We never talk about it. Ever. To anyone at anytime unless Kaida brings it up herself."

"Wait, what other abilities?"

"Rule number two," She waved two fingers in front of his face. Obviously, rule number one was already in effect. He'd have to ask Kaida about it when they got back to the Ridge—hopefully. "We never deviate from the time table unless Kaida herself has changed it—knowing her, that isn't likely."

He thought a wave of guilt would immediately swallow him. He knew why she wouldn't deviate. With the week that has passed since her inauguration as the first human Councilor, he felt his gut clench as she stood beside Sparatus and addressed the politicians and officers present. Last week was her formal entrance into the political battlefield. They'd barely had time to talk about non-business things since she took up the position.

"Rule number three: We hate Saren on principle. Fuck him to hell. And we drink every time misfortune has befallen him—without Kaida, of course."

"Hah. I've been doing that for years." He paused. "Wait, do we literally drink?"

Oriana smirked, leaning against the table. "There's a budget for it and everything."

Garrus laughed. "You are the best secretary in the world."

"Only the best for Kaida." She cleared her throat, maybe a little embarrassed but her eyes were still sharp. "Rule number four: Everything we do is secret—where we go, how much we earn, what we do. We tell no one. Not even John Shepard. Not Nihlus. Not the Council. Not your mother or father."

"Hang on, I'm a Spectre—I don't really have a salary." It was more like an allowance and then not really since he and John had a tendency to destroy things when they went on missions together.

"Spectre Vakarian, may I remind you that you're going to be Kaida's bodyguard from now on. We are extensions of Kaida and Kaida is a prominent public figure. As such, we are required to fix ourselves to best suit Kaida's image. Which brings me to Rule number five: do nothing, say nothing, and wear nothing that will tarnish Kaida's name." She pushed the datapad on the edge of the desk and slid it across the table for him to catch. "Within is the breakdown of your salary—bonuses will apply when necessary. Use it to buy yourself better equipment and maybe a flat in the upper wards."

He picked up the datapad. "Hah, upper wards flats cost more than a Paladin. Why would anyone—Spirits, what kind of salary is this?" He dropped the datapad like it was on fire and it clattered against the glass table top.

Oriana lifted a fine eyebrow at him. "Hm, is it enough? Kaida wanted to add a few more ten thousands but since you live with her I'm removing your 'rent' and food bills from the equation."

"N-not enough? You can feed half a colony with that!"

"Well, Kaida does support one of the batarian colonies on her earnings. The place has been seeing some great overall progress in terms of welfare, job creation, and security. I have one of the reports from the team she set-up—"

"Spirits. Here I was thinking she could rule her own planet and she already does."

Oriana's eyebrows rose at that. "Spectre Vakarian, I don't think you realize the gravity of who it is you're protecting. She was already a human ambassador before any of this. She hasn't left the spot of top five most influential people in intergalactic space since her first album."

"More than her ability to make music is a person more than one life depends on. And it isn't just her—half the Terminus system owes John Shepard a beer or two. The Shepard twins are important for intergalactic stability and development—they're a dying breed of people who actually give a pyjak's ass. And—"

Oriana turned away, her short hair bobbed with the movement and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

He sighed, hoping that the little bit of that weight in the pit of his stomach would ease but it stayed. "I get it."

"Do you? Because, Vakarian, if she ever—"

"I get it, Oriana." He stood up, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I won't let her down. I'm in this for the long haul, right?"

She looked sad for a moment before she slapped his hand away from her shoulder and her eyes sparkled brightly. "If you break any of rules, you'll be wanted in over 15 systems—including the Terminus one— and we know that place is a crap hole— and there is nothing your Spectre status can do about it. Are we clear, Vakarian?"

He was chuckling when Kaida appeared at the entrance, giving them both nods and smiles. "A nuisance is about to enter after me, best look like he's brought us a lifetime supply of chocolate when he insults us. And lock the door, Oriana, we don't want to be too available."

The two of them followed after her into the inner part of the Councilor's office. Garrus hid a chuckle as he watched Oriana apply some pretty tricky locks to the door with a very self-satisfied smile.

Kaida went straight for her chair behind the desk and sat, sighing in visible pleasure. "I think this is the first time I sat in three days."

"You all right?"

She shot him a look, lifting her hand and curling her index finger. He tilted his head at her movement but then looked to his left at the newly installed refrigerator and at the bottle of water floating towards them. Spirits, he wasn't used to biotics being so handy outside of battle. Then again, the asari at C-Sec preferred using it for trickery (i.e. passing notes, passing through walls) if not for duty—it still wasn't an open thing. Kaida, as opposed to her younger brother, exhibited both finesse and strength— and complete control, if not mockery, for anything less.

"I have been better. Oriana, have you done the favor I asked?"

That was the first Garrus had heard about any research that was supposed to be done. He turned to Oriana who looked a little bit too smug at how confused he was. She motioned at the datapad Kaida took from the top of the pile. "Those are the demographics of the Citadel you asked for, Kaida. Including the population of the duct rats and the homeless—or at least the best estimate."

"Hm, it's more than I feared." Kaida downed half of her water in a gulp before she turned to look at Garrus. "You have a better idea of what their lives are like though. Any insights?"

He cleared his throat, thinking. Oriana gave him one raised eyebrow in challenge. "Well, those living below the poverty line are pitiful at best. And damn annoying at worst—they make themselves accomplices of all sorts of wrongdoings for petty cash."

"They'll be resistant about relocations and conventional work—not to mention school." She looked deep in contemplation before her head snapped up to look at the door, glaring. "Oriana, when that damned Udina and his pets walk in—kindly ID them so we can dig up some dirt."

The secretary smiled predatorily before she made her way out the door.

Garrus chuckled. "She's the best."

"I know." Kaida smiled back as they both heard Udina's whining. Kaida sighed. "Vakarian, be a dear and stand intimidatingly behind me. Best to show Udina your teeth, while you're at it."

* * *

Udina was a political animal of the worse kind. Garrus knew this from the stories some of the senior Spectres talked about—how many speeches and appeals he'd made, both of which were fancy words for well-written but indignant complaints. However, no matter how annoying or conniving he was— there was no doubt that he had humanity's best interest at heart.

The problem was that he also liked to combine that with personal interest.

Without invitation, Udina had stalked every corner of Kaida's office—though it was formerly his own but fully transformed. No longer so bare, it held splashes of blue and ivory, such as the rug under the glass coffee table in front of Kaida's main desk, as well as the very convenient kitchen to the right—complete with its own stove, mini fridge, microwave, espresso machine, and island counters. Near the door was Garrus's own desk, made specifically for a turian in fact, with a chair that accommodated his cowl and had mass effect massage options for his spurs. The wall behind that, even more deceptively, opened up into an armory that he had yet to fully stack up—but now it bore the essential sniper: his spare Viper and extra clips. Also, at least three heavy pistols for himself, Kaida, and even Oriana.

There were paintings from Thessia and Earth here and there, as well as an antique record player that Kaida had promised to bring a record for, that would suit his taste. There was also the reasonable amount of tech: holo projectors, comm buoy relays, the works— thatwould come from the roof with the press of a button and retract again with another press.

From the crumpled, almost dejected look on Udina's face, he was obviously looking for a disorganized office from the rush of just being newly appointed. In the outer room, his escorts were being served tea by Oriana and by the sound of their laughter, she was successfully charming them as well. His frowned deepened even more.

"Ambassador Udina,"Kaida leaned back against her chair. Behind her, Garrus stood ramrod straight. "Is there a problem?"

"Nothing, Shepard." He spat without her new title. Garrus' trigger finger twitched. "But you've settled in nicely. I just wanted to check."

"Really? Is that that all there is, Udina?" She smiled. "Perhaps you'd like a cup of tea or coffee? Councilor Tevos was just in here the other day and she handed me that painting behind you." She motioned at one of the paintings of the sunrise of Thessia over one of their ancient temples by a matriarch. Tevos, unlike most of the Council, was surprisingly neutral towards Kaida.

How did Garrus know? She had come in the other day to complain about Udina. And had expressed how excited she was for Kaida's next concert in the Citadel.

The fact didn't escape Udina and he frowned.

"She's a fan of Oriana's cappuccino."

Udina folded his arms behind his back. "I see. You seem to be doing fine—in here." There was an emphasis in the last two words that even Garrus found strange. "Do let me know if you are having problems settling in."

"Of course, ambassador. Thank you for your concern. Have a good day."

Udina gave her a smile, full of teeth that expressed nothing. Then he strode out the door—rounding up his escorts with a sharp look as they hastily excuse themselves from Oriana before hurrying out.

Garrus, rubbing the back of his neck, look down at Kaida. "Uh. What just happened?"

"That—was first blood. He raised the red flag, Vakarian." She pressed a button in her intercom to call Oriana in. "We're going to war."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading/reviewing!

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone look as bored as you do."

Kaida looked almost childlike when Garrus approached her, leaning her head on one of her hands as she traced circles on her table. She gave him a small smile before continuing her task.

Today was the monthly Weapons Training session. As a requirement, Citadel based ambassadors and other race representatives needed to be taught or trained to use a firearm. The training field was located at an enclosed section of the upper wards, designed to look "outdoorsy" with the green trees and shrubbery—targets were lined meters away from clumsy political hands, Spectres, and expert marksmen.

For the politicians, the open air feel and pre-programmed sunny weather was the perfect time for a social event rather than a training session. They'd pull a few shots then start using the time to talk about their projects and gain connections.

Five days after the indirect declaration of challenge and the entrance into the political battlefield, Garrus was surprised by Kaida's lack of effort to gain more clout. On the other hand, Udina seemed to have capitalized and was spreading not-so-well concealed things about her—as indicated by his also not-so-well concealed dirty looks as the surrounding asari, volus, and salarian politicians listened to him speak. Their laughter and looks—directed at Kaida—were all well on cue.

Garrus restrained himself from shooting too close to them. He had already spent several clips, reveling that he actually got to shoot something "on the field" (this counted, somehat). Switching off the music from his visor, the barrel of his rifle hit the floor as he stood at ease next to his charge.

"Do I look so unproductive to you?" She asked him without looking up, running her hands instead at the condensation of her glass, she tipped the straw to take a sip of her, if Garrus heard right, milkshake. It sounded gross even to him.

"You look like you don't want to be here."

"Not an all too different impression from when I was declared Councilor." She nodded. "I'm sure Udina made sure that everyone knows I despise everyone and anyone in these circles. Sadly, he isn't entirely wrong."

He gripped the butt of his rifle tighter. "And why aren't you doing anything about it?"

Now she looked at him, eyebrow raised. "You really think I didn't take what the boar said to me to heart? That I don't know a threat when I hear one? Think about it, Spectre—if I were to approach anyone here and pulled a few rounds with them, all they would know is that I must be using them for my own ends. Just like any other pig here, surely, but so artlessly that I'll be even more ostracized. It's better to wait, and watch—and listen to the things left unsaid. Besides, being good with a gun usually only impressed those in uniform—or a turian."

She smirked at his look of surprise. Of course. She was reading minds as they spoke, trying to pick up those who stood alone to peek into their thoughts. More so, the lack of alertness made her look lazier—likely, they wouldn't have their guard up so high despite her reputation.

Kaida swirled the contents of her drink slowly before she laid it back on the glass table with a clunk. "Now, your job is to make sure that the vultures keep away from us and look as lethal as you're supposed to be. Even now they think they surround a carcass when in fact a dragon is alive beneath the cadaver of the—" She looked at him from head-to-toe blankly. "Mediocre."

He bared his teeth at her. "Is this how you want to play it now, Kaida?"

She leaned back on her chair, still smiling. "I saw Mearkah go through more rounds and more precisely. And this is Mearkah." He grumbled and she laughed. "You losing your edge from the month you've been off the field, Spectre?"

"What about you, Kaida? When was the last time you held a gun from your glory days?" He tilted his head, studying her as well. She was wearing something besides her usual dress. This time, it had more armor on it but was no less—tantalizing—but close enough to human Alliance wear to pass muster. A fitted one-piece that ended in a skirt till mid-thigh with red and black coloring and steel highlights and coupled with thigh high boots that were welded with enough plating to take on a few hits even without shields. She looked good and no less terrifying than she usually did.

She looked around the open shooting range first, lingering on a spot before she turned back to him, frowning. "Meaning?"

"You're getting flabby around the edges, Shepard."

"Is that impudence I hear from your sub-vocals, Vakarian?"

He lifted his chin up, something he knew humans found annoying from all the times Oriana had talked about Udina's other secretaries doing the same towards her. "Maybe."

Kaida's chair hissed along the grass, uprooting them as it dug into the soil. She took one long drink from her shake before stepping past him towards the makeshift armory they had set up for the occasion. One of the other Spectres, Renille, an asari at least 102 years his senior in the department and a deadly commando, looked up from appraising one of the SMG's for a salarian and turned her gold eyes towards them. She gave Garrus a small smile and a nod which he returned.

Between both of them, however, Shepard had approached one of the disassembled units on the table before putting all the parts together to form an M-6 Carnifex in record speed.

"Councilor Shepard," She smiled a little too knowingly at Kaida. "I think I recognize the look in your eye. Finally up for some shooting practice?"

Kaida cocked the gun. She gripped it lightly in her hands before sighing and shaking her head. "Just thought one of your boys could use a lesson in humility. Also, it seems your mercenary bred wares need more calibrating, Gunnery Chief."

"Hmph, says the fancy popstar. When was the last time you've gone to my family's shooting range?"

"You two know each other?" Garrus asked, blinking.

"Oh, Vakarian. We go way back. Family runs a security company. We protect a few of Kaida's— friends." Garrus opened his mandible to ask but got shot down when Renille ducked behind the counter. She pushed a darker, sleeker model towards Kaida. "Fairly new. Alliance made model. Recently released for N7 operatives but I managed to get a pair. They're calling it the M-11 Suppressor."

"Light on the hand. But it has a beautiful body—" Kaida ran her open palm along the side. "And feels powerful.

Renille winked. "I know how you like your boys, baby. Of course, your pet needs the same model for your little wager." She slid him another gun. "Try to give those models back in one piece, children."

"Aye, ma'am." Shepard motioned for Garrus to follow. They skipped passed the paper targets and went straight for the mannequins. They were well-detailed from head to toe—one human and the other turian. Other than being many times more difficult to shoot, using them probably didn't send out a sign of good will to any of the politicians here, which is why even the Spectres representatives weren't training on them.

Shrugging, Garrus knew Kaida barely gave a shit at this point.

"Call and shoot? Or would you like something more tradition?"

He switched the safety of his gun. "The first. How precise can we make the call?"

"Shell of the ear. Tip of the finger. Placement of organs."

"First who misses losses?"

She cocked her own gun and aimed. "Of course. To make it more interesting I'll take the turian and you'll take the human." She smiled as she pointed her gun to the turian mannequin. "Make the call."

He could have felt sorry for the mannequins but shooting holes through them was way too fun. Of course, a real challenge would have been getting a target while being herded away by a stampede of klixen but this was also a small thrill.

And Kaida was keeping up expertly. John had always been more of a charge in and shoot-at-point-blank-range kind of guy. But at a distance the man was also a mean shot, and what he couldn't hit he always made up with a Pull, Shockwave, or a Singularity. On the other hand, his older sister was more patient and steady. She aimed quickly over all the turian parts he announced and fired, calling his target soon after. Her feet barely shifted from waiting for her turn.

So, he underestimated her shooting abilities. Though she had admitted herself that sniper rifles weren't her thing, she'd been well-trained with all the other weapons from short to middle range.

"Vakarian. Bullet on the left eye."

He turned to her sharply. "You're joking."

"Why, Spectre?" She leaned back on one foot. "Want me to demonstrate? The Suppressor is capable of that kind of precision. Don't argue otherwise."

He grumbled but took aim. "I think you're just being mean."

When he was feeling more confident about his aim to rest his finger on the trigger, evening out the pace of his breath before he felt his muscles relax. He pulled—

"Oh, Saren's here."

And then he missed. He looked at her, eyes wide.

She smiled. "Just kidding."

"You. You cheated!" He looked at his target. The bullet had hit the side of the forehead instead of the eye. All it took was that little distraction, and that little fear, for him to miss that badly (if John were here he would have argued otherwise but John wasn't here).

"How did I cheat? I made an observation in jest. We've been talking and shooting all morning."

"Just admit you would have totally lost if we played fair."

She clicked the safety back on. "There's no such thing as a fair game, Spectre. The mercs you hunt won't wait for you to be ready before they start shooting."

He glared. If he could pout, he probably would too. Those seemed to work for Oriana often enough against Kaida. "You're just trying to distract me from the fact that you cheated to win."

"Don't be mad, Vakarian. Tell you what: why don't I show you something? A little entertainment I learned from an asari tutot, hm?"

"I don't know. I'd rather win a bet against you than know more about you."

She laughed, handing him her gun which he strapped into his free holster. "You'll love it. Let's renew these mannequins."

He stood off a bit to the side while Kaida remained in front a row of more neutral looking targets. She took a deep breath before taking a stance—holding something between both her hands as if there was a shotgun there, she cocked it even and before Garrus could laugh—she aimed—

"Katana."

She pulled her finger where the trigger would have been—but bullets, biotic bullets came out of a gun that wasn't there. The splash damage pattern exactly like the Katana's. What in Spirits name was she—no, just no way.

She took a small step towards the next target, adjusting her stance and her aim.

"Disciple."

Another shot rang. She repeated her motion for the next target.

"Eviscerator."

Bang. Rinse. Repeat.

"Wraith."

Bang.

"Scimitar."

Bang.

"Claymore."

Bang.

Garrus heart raced, blood rushing to all the ends of his body, and if he would admit it to himself—the blood raced to places he'd also rather not talk about.

"Councilor Shepard, that is some fine control of biotics you have there." Garrus heard footsteps behind him.

Kaida looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Councilor Sparatus," She nodded smiling, her turian as fluent and as melodious as it always was. "It's a surprise to see you around here as well."

They shook hands before he turned to Garrus. "Vakarian, you did well on the targets as well. You would have won if not for that one tricky target. Nihlus has been training you well. Send him my regards."

"Thank you, sir."

Garrus held back the urge to cuss at the Spirits because damn he felt pretty damned turned on. Kaida put a comforting hand on his forearm (which wasn't comforting at all). He saluted the Councilor—thanked his armor for preserving his dignity before shaking the Councilor's hand as well.

"Now, I'm pretty sure you have your license—you being here doesn't make much sense, Councilor Shepard."

"I would say the same about you, Councilor Sparatus. Turians barely need to go through this whole event and yet you're here along with several others."

"Well, I need to know what's going on." He motioned for them to start walking. "The generals and I have been making wagers on your competition but then that biotic display. I can't say I've seen a lot asari commandos exhibit that much strength or control."

She smiled, putting a hand on her waist as Sparatus's eyes followed her hand. "I hope you bet on the right horse, Councilor. And if you didn't, it might be better to lie to me."

Councilor Sparatus actually laughed. Garrus would have taken a step back in shock. "I have General Oraka and a few other Generals here with me. Would you like join us for lunch?"

"I would be honored." She smiled at the Councilor before she turned back to Garrus. "Vakarian, kindly return the guns to Spectre V'loka and then join us when you can."

He nodded. Shepard flashed him a smile before falling beside the Councilor and together they walked to a distant table.

Garrus reached the makeshift armory after a slow almost too leisurely walk. Linelle smiled at him and took the two pistols.

"Vakarian?"

Linelle called him before he could turn back. Their eyes met.

She grinned. "I don't blame you."

He narrowed his eyes. "For what?"

"Let's just say." She leaned forward. "I'd have a pretty unfortunate," Her eyes traveled south. "Accident— if I were in your shoes."

Garrus wanted to bury himself under the ground and never come out at the sound of the older Spectre's laughter.

Kaida was looking out the window of the skycar. Her lips were turned upward but her eyes were sharp, studying something below them intently.

"Don't tell me you didn't have all that planned."

"Have all what planned?"

"The contest. And—the stuff after."

She chuckled, crossing her legs. "I did tell you. The only thing that a good shot could attract is a man in uniform or a turian."

"So, you waited for the Councilor to make his appearance." He looked at her from his own view of the Citadel. "And then set it up so he'd take interest."

"Vakarian, I have to say I'm always surprised by your ability to deduce my actions." She scrunched up her nose like she smelled something funny. "Though it makes me feel like a dirty criminal."

He chuckled, crossing his arms. "You're smarter than a criminal though. Not that I was entirely against being used."

She smiled. "True. I did use you. It's hard to court the big fish—but it's worth more than all the little fishes that gather around Udina. Sparatus will still veto me when we make decisions in the Council, surely, because then I would represent an entire system at those times. But at least, as a person, he'll hold me separate from Udina and John—both of whom I know he hates. For now, that is what is important."

Garrus cleared his throat. "I see."

Kaida smiled. "Something on your mind, Vakarian?"

"Hm."

"Yeah?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "Uh."

She tilted her head back, closing her eyes. "You better hurry. I'm trying hard to ignore your thoughts and respect your privacy."

He bared his teeth. "Where did you learn to use your biotics that way? How did you—memorize all those guns?"

She smiled again, resting her back against her seat but faced forward, eyes open. "It's more a parlor trick than anything. And I definitely can't use it to kill hordes of enemies. It is very limited. I can do only about eight to nine rounds, maybe one or two more if I feel up to it."

"Huh. But I don't think being able to control your biotics to replicate the power, speed, and splash damage of all the known shotguns available in the market is just any old parlor trick."

She chuckled. "That is true."

"Well?"

"Hm." She faced him. "I did promise that I'd tell you a few things—since you've survived this long."

He moved toward her, hand on the space between them as he leaned on it. "And?"

"You said you'd rather win bets against me than learn more about me."

He groaned, cowl hitting the back of his chair. "Crap, you should never listen to anything I say when I lose."

She laughed a bit before, clearing her throat. "It's not too uncommon. One of my handlers— an asari Matron taught it to me. She was truly a master, and one of the few who stuck with me. Her name was Renee."

"So, she can do the shotgun thing too?"

"Oh, yeah. Asari don't talk about it much but they do have exercises in biotics that they don't really reveal to other cultures. Madam Renee," She laughed a little to herself. "Once used it to draw the attention of her husband, actually. Her control was even finer— she could do the whole SMG and heavy pistol line."

"Let me guess: her husband was turian."

"That he was."

"Spirits. Women are so conniving."

"I can't disagree." She chuckled softly, almost secretly. "Maybe now you can guess how Saren and I—"

"Stop. Stop." He put his hand up. "I never wanted to know. About— anything, regarding any of that."

She smiled, lying back down—looking up at the window on the back of the space car. The light was streaming in even through the tint: it just revealed how pale and tired she looked just then. "I've been lauded as a biotic genius since I was very young—control, power, creativity—all these things come to me easily. Madam Renee said that I didn't need the luxury of 500 years to attain a high level of mastery." She sighed. "Most human biotics and even asari—they believe they practice their biotics. But me?"

Kaida closed her eyes. "I am my biotics."

Garrus hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath before he suddenly relaxed his muscles. There was definitely more to that statement that she let on—but maybe it was one of the million things she wanted him to figure out on his own. He certainly did believe that biotics was the root of everything Kaida did—without it though, well, she wouldn't be any less spirited or less intelligent.

"Kaida?"

"Hm?"

He looked back out the window. "You're definitely more than just your biotics."

She chuckled. "You only say that because I pay you."

They shared a laugh before everything sank into silence. They spent the rest of the ride back to the Ridge looking out their own windows.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Been a while but Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 8**

Garrus was warned that he would be traipsing in a world that wouldn't suit him. Kaida told him time and time again that it would be better that he be kept in the dark about certain negotiations until the last moment, especially, when she needed to talk to turians—and they did have a habit of looking at him to see if she was being truthful or not. He felt a little offended for Kaida, however, she was probably the most trustworthy person he knew next to John.

More than the turians were the private sectors, Kaida surprised him with the number of hanar and volus that were gracing her office. They held companies whose worth ranged from a couple of millions to billions of credits.

"Politicans fall in line when they smell good money too." Kaida explained. "And since turians are mostly pants at business, we may as well get the ones who trust me to fund us."

"Fund us? What for? World domination?" He stared at her, bleary eyed. "Aren't we just inviting Udina to counter us again, even if he's been quiet because he realized your guns were bigger than his?"

She frowned. "Well, my goals aren't quite as lofty but I like to think they will be worth the credits. The investors seem to agree—just stand there and be pretty, hm? Leave this part to me."

He sighed. He always felt that for just about everything non-combat related, he'd been thrown under the transit shuttle, and treated like a varren that attacks or yields on command. He was more than that, thank you very much, he was a Spectre. At the very least, he could choose for himself when to attack or yield, with no repercussions from the Council (save destruction of property—that, salarians took too seriously).

Still, Kaida finally felt sorry for him and sent him and Oriana to deal with Coat of Arms, the band she was performing with in three days—as they prepped the Citadel Coliseum for the "intimate" gathering of fans that was somehow changed into a full blown performance. It had a seating capacity of about 50,000—that was already full despite only a two week heads up. So the security detail was a nightmare, and with the C-Sec grunts lined up in front him—he was probably also biting into more than he can chew.

"Twenty people compared to fifty thousand is a klixen next to a Thresher Maw, Oriana. Couldn't you have told one of us sooner?"

The crazy-eyed glare she fixed on him had one of the C-Sec officers flinching back. She was frantically ticking off things in a datapad she was holding. If she wasn't so dignified, she'd be chewing on her fingernails and smearing her lipstick. "We had a private company working with us for our last gig but Coat of Arm's reps got all fussy. They're bringing in their own people so we're, I quote, 'Not supposed to sweat the details, darlin'."

"Spirits, they sound professional." He took one last look at his line of C-Sec officers. Green. Green and squishy looking. "C-Sec could have spared a meaner looking bunch for a Councilor."

"They might have if Kaida approved. But she said C-Sec was too—solemn. Only agreed to a small force because Tevos insisted." Oriana sighed, hand resting on her hip. "These twenty are to focus on some of the minor pathways. Another security firm—people Kaida actually approved of—will be the ones you'll really need to coordinate with. That was non-negotiable when Coat of Arms made their bid for this spot."

"Bid?"

Oriana raised a well-groomed eyebrow at him. "You think Coat of Arms was the only band we were considering? Expel 10, Vaenia—among the best anyway. But Coat of Arms was giving the best bid—and I don't only mean in terms of money."

She motioned for him to follow and he did. They climbed into one of the elevators and stopped at one of the mezzanines, walking into the Coliseum; he had never watched a concert before—only some pre-recordings on TV holos. They were in one of the mid-level sections, from that vantage point, he could see the entire expanse of the Coliseum. Anyone could see that filling up this place in two weeks was both a media and logistical nightmare. Moreover, the Coliseum itself, from a sniper's perspective, was an assassin's dream.

"Filling this up in two weeks is mostly Kaida, don't get me wrong. But we don't want to pull too many strings in such short notice—it wouldn't be wise. Coat of Arms is multi-racial, they have a lot of connections in the industry and more than that—they represent exactly what Kaida thinks the galaxy needs right now: a united front. Plus, she says they're good enough. Their bassist is first class and vocals is good too. Drummer is a bit twitchy—but you can't have everything."

"So, we're choosing their political sway over safety?" Oriana nodded and he sighed. He placed a hand on her shoulder and pointed South East, about 58 degrees from where they stood according to his visor. "That is a nest. Directly parallel to that perch is another." He pointed up at the open ceiling. "That is one bomb away from oblivion as well but that would have less panache than a single assassin bullet. A hovering aircraft, something non-threatening could have one hostile with damn good aim and enough guts to try."

He thought he made an excellent argument—at least to put in some kind of barrier or what—but she only shrugged. "That's why you're here, Spectre. To figure out how to make this place safe without bringing in too many turians that the fans feel like it's martial law." She patted him lightly, smiling. "Kaida sent you here with faith in your abilities. Give your creativity at least that much credit."

When she sauntered back into the elevator with the confident sway of her hips, all he wanted to do was sit down and have a drink.

* * *

"I think I get it now," Garrus stopped at the sight to mutter to himself. "Kaida is a genius. But Spirits, there really isn't a big gap between that and a madwoman, is there?"

Krogan. Fairly young krogans judging by their lighter hides and smaller cowls but they were krogan all the same, and in the middle a group that was ten strong was one with a louder laugh and meaner eyes. He was also talking to one John Shepard, who gave the krogan a friendly punch before he looked to the side and spotted Garrus.

"Hey, Vakarian! Looking good for someone who probably hasn't killed anything in about a month."

A month. Spirits, a month is a hell of a long time to be doing—any of this. He cleared his throat. "Shepard, tell me this isn't the Councilor's idea of ideal security."

The krogan closest to John growled. "I don't think I'll like this one as much as you said I would, Shepard."

"Give Garrus some time, Grunt. He doesn't like surprises." He gave the young krogan another nod before turning to Garrus, all smiles and easy posture. "Grunt here is the head of his pack. Long story short: I found them and they like me so they're doing me this favor before they return to Tuchanka."

Garrus crossed his arms. "What crazy thing did you get into while I was swimming in political gunk?"

"Happened a year back. We were separated then, remember? You went to Thessia to deal with drug lords and I went to the Terminus System to deal with Warlords. What happened was you got that nice girlfriend who lasted a couple of months and I got a pack of loyal krogans. Seemed fair."

Garrus chuckled under his breath. "Crazier is the fact you managed to convince both your sister and a bunch of fussy musical pansies that this was good idea."

"You know me, Garrus. Smooth as a baby's bottom."

"John, you do know that some of the human idioms you say just pass right over him." Kaida sauntered towards them, nodding at Garrus before turning to her brother with a lifted eyebrow, then at Grunt with a smile. "So, this is the infamous pack Wrex was willing to lend us. I'm more than surprised that you've found my little brother worthy enough to follow."

Grunt looked taken aback by this. "You know Battlemaster Urdnot?"

Garrus was pretty surprised himself and he didn't do much to hide it as he looked at Kaida, grinning from ear to ear with a sharpness to her eyes. "Let's just say as a former marine I've met a few individuals whom I could call mentors and friends on high risk missions."

John looked at her, wide-eyed. "You stopped being a marine at 18!"

She shrugged. "Details." She smiled at Grunt. "I don't think this is a high risk mission and you're not likely going to be shooting anyone but your pack is a reassurance. Kindly let Wrex know that I'm in good health and that I may be visiting him in the not so distant future." She nodded at them. "Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me. I'll be heading to practice."

They all watched her walk away. Grunt laughed, a slow menacing one that gave Garrus some pause. "I like her."

John chuckled under his breath. "Good. Because this job would suck if you didn't."

* * *

Security detail became smoother after that. Coat of Arms had their own group for security and the details were ironed out by Oriana for that one. They were working with more humans and asari than he'd worked with in a long time. In retaliation, John nudged him in the side with his elbow and wiggled his eyebrows.

Everything was smooth by the time the day of the concert rolled in. Of course, there were two Spectres working on it and it was a little bit of an overkill, but it was for the first human Councillor. Safety was an utmost importance. Garrus spent nearly all of that time in the underground passages, one of the most vulnerable areas of the Coliseum, planning for Kaida's escape route. Reports were chiming that her final song was approaching and security was tightening to make sure the fans don't get rabid.

It was John who tapped him on the shoulder. "Sis is calling you up. I'll take this post."

Garrus blinked at him and nodded. Making his way up just when Coat of Arms left the stage with Kaida behind them. Spotting her, she seemed even more ethereal in her shimmering white dress and her pink-lipped smile, she called him over with a wave of her hand and he stopped in front of her, hands behind his back.

"Spectre," Her smile grew as the glitter in the eye shadow twinkled even in the dark backstage. The crowd in the Coliseum chanted for an encore and tension could be felt even backstage. "This will be my last live performance in a long time. You said you never watched me live?"

"I hear you every day in the office or in the Ridge."

She shook her head, no. "Not the same. Come on." She led him to the side of the stage.

He grabbed onto her forearm just as she was about to leave the shield of the curtains. "Why are you showing me this?"

She put a hand on his arm in return. "You can't be considered mine if you haven't watched me perform." She winked at him as she turned back to the stage. The scream of fifty thousand fans resounding inside the Coliseum, reaching for the sky.

Garrus knew exactly what she meant when she said that. That you couldn't work for Kaida and not know her music, not know what she represented. As John said, the job would suck if you didn't like Kaida and a large part of her was music.

Still, he wanted to misunderstand.

She sang one of the most beautiful ballads he'd ever heard with the kind of skill that would have reduced anyone to tears. On the other hand, Garrus felt his heart race in his chest and he knew he was screwed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Eight months.

He lasted being a bodyguard—doing perpetually nothing most days—for eight months. Even Kaida, leaning forward on her hand as she read through datapads, offhandedly said she was surprised he hadn't staged his own coup just to have fun. John told him he wouldn't last four, contract be damned.

But, Spirits, eight months. Someone in the Citadel owed Garrus Vakarian a damn drink for lasting eight months without killing or destroying anything.

Killing anything had two meanings. A, hm—double entendre, (was he using that right?). It had been eight months since he had started working for Kaida and amassed a small fortune that was probably enough to run some obscure Space Station in the Terminus Systems. It had been six months since Kaida's last concert. Six months since he realized he had a not-so-subtle-crush-thing on his employer.

And she hadn't found out.

Granted, he was trying his damn best to conceal it under a hundred million other secrets and thoughts. Kaida never granted him any room however, she'd called him out for every little thing:

"You punched Al-Jilani in the face three years ago and erased the tape? Badass, Vakarian."

And,

"Your first love was a quarian on pilgrimage, huh. That's pretty cute, Vakarian. Did you ever find out if she went back to the Flotilla?"

Let's not forget,

"You said what to the recon scout? Reach and Flexibility! And she still slept with you?"

Frankly, he was running out of secrets. Moreover, it's like she was getting deeper and deeper to the core of him. What would she do if she found out? Fire him? Laugh at him? Crush his tiny, weak Spirit—she already kind of made him feel like he was twelve, shuffling his feet, trying to prove himself to his father all over again. There was a small difference, though. Back then, he had to prove his worth as a turian, as a son, as a Vakarian.

Now, he wasn't sure what he was trying to prove. But he didn't like the way she patted his arm to placate him when he was angry or when she excluded him from things he didn't understand. He could learn to be patient. He could learn about politics, or elcor trade routes or Hanar Enkindling philosophies or anything else that she meddled in.

He was sitting on his desk, sifting through his pile of datapads. Kaida at least trusted him on tech related tasks. It wasn't something she was strong at if it didn't involve disabling them or destroying them with her biotics. This one was about the feeds on Zakera and the Eclipse moving in to get a Red Sand ring running in the Citadel, but the evidence had been tampered with and he was tasked to find out a way to undo it. Across him, Kaida was there—still, but there— weighing heavily on him even if she wasn't watching him.

Several hours later, after tinkering with the holos to death he'd realized that he'd have to go down to Zakera to check the feeds himself and assist C-Sec in finding the leaders. He stood with a sigh, made his steps as light as he could, and stood in front of her with his hands behind his back.

Her eyes were unfocused. Was she asleep? He cleared his throat loudly. She looked up, slowly.

"You all right there, Kaida?"

"Garrus." She smiled up at him, lips pale. "Is there something you need?"

"Well, I was about to tell you I need to go down to Zakera—but now I'm worried about leaving you here. Are you all right? Is it another attack?"

She shrugged. The only time he had witnessed an attack was when Saren and himself got drunk and had a—moment. It still made the bile rise up his throat at the thought. Kaida shook her head, however. Again, she reached out to touch him. "I want that Eclipse problem solved, Spectre. Besides, you need to run into some trouble every now and then before you rot at the desk."

He stopped himself from jumping out of her reach, but then she would have suspected something. Her soft fingers felt like fire against the plates of his hands. He cleared his throat. "I tucked another gun under your desk with an extra clip."

"Of course." She smiled. "Happy hunting. Clean the blood off your boots before you come back inside. Oriana will pull your talons clean off if you track anything on her carpets."

* * *

He didn't have to kill anyone when he got to the site. But he did find a little Eclipse guy walking around, looking suspicious and wide-eyed. It didn't help his case when, upon seeing Garrus, the salarian made a run for it.

The questioning took place in C-Sec's main office and Garrus felt that wave of nostalgia bombard him along with the odd smell of cigarettes and sweat. The murmurs blanked the whole office, just below the voice of distinctly commanding officers about to send recruits on rounds—he hated those days, when he was made to stand in a line and listen to Chellick. Even when he was promoted to Investigator, it was the exact same thing only with Chellick as Prosecutor and a megaton more annoying.

Just nearly three years prior, he was one of these guys. Then he up and quit, got into Spectre Training—got commended and taken in by Nihlus. A year after, John joined them. Another year, and now he was back in C-Sec. Though he returned as a young Spectre now, in charge of the safety of the first human Councilor. It was exhilarating to get stares, salutes, and to be allowed into the questioning room without a second thought.

Heading back to the embassy with a kick to his stride, he opened the door to Kaida's office to find her slouching with the exact same look on her face when he left. He checked his omni-tool, he'd been gone for four hours and she hadn't moved at all?

"Kaida."

She didn't respond.

"Kaida? Kaida. Shepard!"

She blinked, turning her face up to look at him. She blinked several more times before smiling. "Garrus. Did everything go well?"

"We have the base's location, yeah."

She nodded. "Good."

"Are you—are you really alright?"

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "A little tired. The lack of systematic sleep is a little troublesome but I'll get used to it. Coupled with all the other things I have to worry about it."

"Didn't you have a hard time when you were in the entertainment business?" He took the seat in front of her when she motioned at it.

"The first few years, yes. But lately, life had been more comfortable. I'm not used to the same amount of stress."

"It's also been a while since you've trained with your military."

She nodded, standing. "Let's head back to the Ridge, Spectre."

"Right."

* * *

"So, you think sis is hiding something from you?"

John Shepard had pinged Garrus to tell him that he would only be in the Citadel for a week before going off to Ilium. Garrus took the opportunity to invite him to the _Mahogany_ for a round (or seven) of drinks. Shepard was in in his civvies, not looking any smaller despite not wearing his armor, flriting with the new barmaid. Her smile was slow and wise as she served him his draft beer.

"Well, I'm sure she has one or two things she'd rather not talk about." He recalled that she had promised to tell him about—stuff. But it's not like he would share that with John. "But I think the secret is less personal to her and more—general."

"You mean it might involve the Council—or the galaxy?"

"Yeah."

"Really? You're sure? She has a lot of secrets in that brain of hers for her own reasons."

Garrus exhaled deeply. "She told me she'd tell me after some time. She's not the type to get frazzled by old news. No, there's something big going on and she just uncovered it."

John took a few deep gulps of his drink. "She was always the loner type. Mom said she was a slow reader. Didn't talk to people much, other than me and maybe an instructor here or there when we were in the Alliance Academy together. She worked up the ranks pretty quickly."

Garrus downed the Cipritine gris, the drink slid down his tongue like fire and he ordered another one. "You said she started two years before you?"

"Yeah. She started when she was 12, I started at 14."

A red flag rose. Garrus crunched the numbers in his head. He remembered some of the things, few as they were, about Kaida's childhood. She talked about being very young when she started training, much younger than 12 years old. She talked about asari handlers and their parlor tricks—and he also didn't recall any asaris handling other human children, let alone John talking about his own training (and he shared a lot about that, as one of those who benefited from the improved L3 implant).

One of those things John didn't know and Kaida didn't want him to find out.

He opened his mouth to point that out but paused, grabbing his new drink to cover his wide-eyes and open mouth. She had her reasons, Garrus thought. It was just something John shouldn't know. Maybe right now he didn't know why, but Kaida had said she liked his honesty. She wasn't the type to not answer a straight question. If he asked—would she answer?

I am my biotics. Garrus recalled her saying, looking up at the ceiling of the skycar with a strange smile on her face. What did she really mean by that?

A ping of an omni-tool, Shepard cursed as he looked down. "Damn, paperwork. The Council and their bookkeeping. I should go. Let's meet up for drinks another time?"

Garrus barely managed a nod with the thoughts swirling in his head.

* * *

"My, Spectre, you look more worn out than I do and you weren't in that last Council meeting."

Garrus crammed as many immediate thoughts into his head. He's survived a little more than eight months with a mind reader and he hadn't been found out. Not about his uncomfortable feelings for his boss nor about how he was suspicious of how distracted, worn, and pale she had become. Now, there she was, in front of him with a hand on his desk and a smile on her face.

"Ah, restless. A little."

There was the small shrug of her shoulders and a frown. "Not much to do, is there?"

He nodded with a chuckle. "With how much progress you've been doing lately—there are fewer duct rats in even the shadier wards of the Citadel."

She nodded. "We've erected a few orphanages. But now crime Intel is crawling. They're moving more cautiously. I've barely scratched the surface."

"If there's anyone who can find a way around this, it's you."

For something that was supposed to put her mind at ease, her frown only deepened. "I can imagine this is dull for a Spectre who's used to chasing criminals down and shooting things."

"Well," He scratched the back of his neck. "I do feel cramped by the peace at times but I prefer that criminals are being dealt with. When I was in C-Sec, there were at least reports of suspicious activity. Most days, there's barely even a blip. The quiet is—well, it makes me think that there must be something we're not seeing because I don't feel as secure as the Council wants me to be."

"Everything always looks better from the outside looking in?"

"Exactly, Kaida."

"Hm."

He tilted his head. "What?"

"You've lived an exciting life before this, right?"

"Uh, well, if you call getting shot in the leg and still managing to kick batarian slaver ass, then yes."

She chuckled. "How often did you catch a break?"

"Not often." He sighed. "Damn, I probably would have killed to just sit down for five minutes."

"Want to do something then?"

Garrus blinked. "Something?"

She pouted, Garrus hated it when she did that. Mostly, because his alien curiosity about human lips had always been scientific until he saw a vid or two about—human intimacy. Human intimacy involving lips slowly evolved to intimacy with Kaida Shepard's lips. Now, he had to think about a hundred other things to cover up how much he thought about her lips. "I hate to admit that my exciting days in the military are long past me. But one line of work replaced another, now when I'm tired I spend my rest days playing instruments or just staying in the Ridge."

"Really? Even outside of the Citadel?"

"A Ridge is bought or built in every major city where I have a large fan base." Her smile showed teeth. "Perks of being a popstar, Spectre."

"Damn."

"But," She turned away for a moment, facing the Citadel and the skyline. "No matter how long I stay in a system, I barely explore much."

"Let me guess: the paparazzi?"

"That's one reason, another is—well, I never really cared to fit it in my schedule. So," She leaned forward. "You know the Citadel like the back of your hand—"

"The what?"

"Oh, right. I mean, you know everything about the Citadel—you'd know where a Councilor and her Spectre bodyguard can go to avoid some unnecessary press and maybe have fun?"

"Hm," He said out loud but he could barely keep himself from shaking. "Councilor, are you asking me out?"

Her smile was bright and a healthy flush reached her cheeks. "Well, if that's what would get you to show me around, then sure."

He tapped his fingers on the desk. "What about today's itinerary? You have meetings until late this evening, right?"

She brought up her omni-tool. "You say the word, Spectre and they'll all be canceled."

"What? You'd skip out on the lunch with Councilor Tevos for a fledgling Spectre?"

She rolled her eyes. "She's over 500 years old. She'll get over it." With a push of the holo, a visual comm interface popped up, lighting up both their faces. "So, what will it be, Spectre? We go out and enjoy ourselves or we stay in the embassy and deal with another day full of papers and politicians."

He knew it was crazy to accept the offer. He shouldn't even had thought it would do them any good. If Kaida didn't find out about his feelings then they might get caught by paparazzi scouting the area, ready for the best vid or shot of them amongst the wrong crowd at a bad time—damn, Udina just finally died down a little and he really didn't want to give Kaida more things to worry about.

Kaida was doing that pouty thing, however. Damn.

"You better be paying, Councilor."

She grinned at him as she called Oriana through her comm. "Oriana, cancel all my meetings today. I'm going on a date."


End file.
